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look-at-the-soul · 2 months

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Because of you

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

🎉 @runnning-outof-time I write this little fluffy piece for your celebration! Hope you like this! Congratulations on 4K followers, and also thank you for your kindness, your constant content -which I’m trying to catch up on-, and your little sweet and cheerful messages K! 💖 I’m particularly grateful for your presence in this fandom (the very first blog I remember following and following me back!)

Last but not least, thank you @justrainandcoffee for the absolutely beautiful moodboard!!!!!!! ♥️✨ It’s everything I imagined and even more ✨

A/N: Keep reading until the end, you’ll find a recipe in case this story makes you go hungry 🤭 because in this blog we share photos and recipes, whatever you want 😉 I couldn’t help it but add the grandma element in this one (Grandma’s series) and a little baby fever 👀 @forbidden-forest-witch

Word count: 2,308

“Alright Polly, I’ll deal with the contracts tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Ada should be sending you the papers.”

“Enjoy the rest of your holiday already, bye.” He added but didn’t hang up. He heard her laughing at the other end of the line. “For good, have some fucking rest.”

She was just like him, refused to take days off, now she was finally about to embark into a cruise around the Mediterranean.

“Are you home yet?” She asked.

“Yeah, just want to take a bath and go to sleep.” But that was so unlikely since both his children were home for the weekend.

“Give Y/N and the kids a kiss from me.” Polly requested and finally hung up.

Getting a phone call from an known number, Tommy decided he was done for the day, so pressing the red button, he walked into his apartment and immediately the voices coming from the kitchen caught his attention.

Genuine, loud laughs filled the hall and he recognized the unmistakable song in the background.

“I want the pink M&M’s!” Shouted Ruby.

“Why do you like everything that’s pink?” Charlie questioned as Tommy left his keys and wallet by the table.

“Because…” his daughter’s voice mumbled something he didn’t understand. “Y/N can you spin me around again, pleeeease?”

Tommy was about to interrupt the scene going on the kitchen, but he stopped midway as Y/N turned around and leaned forward, Ruby wrapped her arms and legs from behind while Y/N held her feet and slowly twirled around. Making his daughter giggle uncontrollably, her hair flowing.

“Okay now go back to your chair because you’re making the baby twirl inside too.” Y/N joked.

“I don’t know how you do it, when I was pregnant all I could was throw up. You need to take it easy.” Her mother asked in a worried tone.

“Mom I’m fine, besides the baby really wants a slice.” Then, looking at Charlie, she gasped. “Oh Charlie we don’t lick the spatula,” she told him in a calm tone, but it was too late he was done decorating his slice and now half his face was covered in chocolate, “well, what’s a few germs between friends huh?”

As the kids started giggling, she noticed Tommy standing by the door.

She was wearing a black tight dress that looked like a second skin on her, wrapping every curve perfectly and also showing his favorite new feature; the baby bump fully on display. Her hair free, wild long waves covered her back. A few bracelets hanging from her wrist, the Cartier watch he gave her for their first anniversary and her signature smile that took his breath away.

“I didn’t hear you,” wiping her hands with a cloth, she approached her husband. “Missed you.”

His hands wrapped around her back immediately as their lips connected. She tasted like cheesecake and strawberries.

“I missed you too.” He whispered and crunching down, he planted a kiss on her swollen belly. “How’s my little one, eh?”

“Starving and wriggling around.” Y/N answered as Tommy went for another kiss, this time on her lips.

“Eww, dad.” Charlie complained. Embarrassed by their affection.

Ignoring his son’s complain, he went to kiss Ruby on the cheek and then kissed Charlie as well, ruffling his blonde hair in the process.

“Hello Lisa, how are you doing?”

“Trying to make Y/N sit, but she won’t listen to me.” His mother in law welcomed him with a hug.

“Yeah, I deal with that on a daily basis.” He winked at her playfully.

“Hello? I’m standing right here!” Y/N waved at them.

“Oh!” Tommy made an innocent face. “Right, well I didn’t say anything.”

Ruby laughed. “Look Dad! Y/N had some crampings and we made a cheesecake!”

“I think she means cravings right?” He asked Y/N in a low voice, making his wife smile. “We? Are you sure you baked that?”

“Weeeeell Y/N and grandma baked it, but we decorated it!” She defended.

“And we made all slices with different topings.” Added Charlie.

Tommy’s heart melted as he heard his daughter call Y/N’s mother grandma, she and Polly were the closest his kids had.

He had lost his mother a long time ago, but once Y/N stepped into his life everything changed. Lonely nights were filled with love, long and deep talks. Actually, thanks to her, Tommy started to spend quality time with his children; Charlie and Ruby, driving them or picking them up from school, arranging plans on the weekends, even taking them both on holidays.

And Lisa welcomed not only him into her family lovingly, but both his kids as if they were her biological grandchildren.

“So which one is for me?” He asked after clearing his throat, he tried to hide his emotions, but Y/N could read him like an open book and a moment later he felt her hand on his back and her head on his shoulder. “These all look great.”

He spied on the slices with several options.

“Y/N said chocolate marble is your favorite.” Ruby gave him a serious stare.

“That’s about right.” He nodded profusely in her direction, then looking at his mother in law, he asked her; “I hope they didn’t give you loads of work.”

“None of that, they’re amazing kids.” Lisa beamed.

A groan came from the fridge, Tommy went immediately after Y/N worried.

“What is it?”

“We were going to put the pizza in the oven, but I can’t stand the smell.” She made a face.

Tommy decided to check the food, it had been in the freezer but it might be bad.

“This doesn’t smell, Y/N.”

“I just don’t want pizza anymore.” She pouted.

And in that very same moment, Tommy understood this was one of those mood swings caused by the pregnancy. A careful smile spread on his lips as his hands caressed her bump gently.

“Okay, so what do you want for dinner instead?”

By the corner of his eye, he saw his mother in law trying to suppress a giggle, luckily the children were busy with the cheesecake.

“We want tacos.” Y/N batted her eyelashes as she ran one of her hands over her stomach.

“Alright everybody,” he clapped his hands and looked at Charlie and Ruby, “go wash your hands then you’re going to help me prepare some tacos.”

“Yay!”

“Delish.” Ruby shouted and went into the bathroom.

“You’re staying with us right?” He asked Y/N’s mother.

She nodded and felt grateful when Tommy convinced her daughter to go and relax into the living room while they worked on the food.

“Last week she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted fried mozzarella sticks with mayonnaise.”

Y/N’s mother laughed as the kids joined them again.

“This is insane, I don’t know how you keep up with all of that.”

“I was worried about her health and the baby of course, but the doctor mentioned everything is perfect, baby is healthy… perhaps it’s the fact that she’s still doing exercise.”

“When I was pregnant I was sick all the time. She didn’t like anything of food I got.”

Tommy seemed to think about it as he started seasoning the beef.

“Actually Y/N felt like that for a few days after we found out, but then she started to eat pretty much everything, everywhere.” He chuckled. “Thankfully it’s been an easy pregnancy so far.”

He had actually been able to live this pregnancy to the fullest, joining Y/N for the doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormonal days, everything, something he didn’t have the chance to do with Charlie and Ruby.

He was enjoying every little change in Y/N’s body, the first time he felt a little kick, he cried actually, touched by the thought of his baby growing inside the woman he loved. They actually wanted to keep the gender a surprise until the baby arrives, it had been a challenge at times, but it was fun.

“Dad where’s the onion?” Ruby showed him the open fridge.

“Oh no, no… can we not add onions please?” Y/N joined them with a wrinkled nose.

“Two days ago you ate a full portion of fried onions, love.”

“This baby,” she pointed at her belly, “wanted onions, not me.”

“Isn’t it the same?” Charlie asked confused.

But Tommy knew better. “No onions then, I’ll start the grill with something else.” He added wanting to please her in every little detail.

As the kids helped Y/N’s mother to wash the avocados, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket.

Y/N stared at his back, wide with broad, toned shoulders covered by a perfectly fitted shirt. She loved to see him wearing daily a three piece suit in a world full of oversized t-shirts and pants.

But when he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, she lost it completely.

The sight of him was mouthwatering.

And as Tommy turned around, he caught her staring at her, the fire in her eyes could turn him on in a second.

“Behave, Y/N.” He whispered, disguising his words with a kiss on her hair. “Perhaps we’ll need a babysitter over the weekend?”

He chuckled at the way she nodded eagerly.

“My, my… what would your brothers say if they saw you wearing an apron and cooking?” Y/N’s mother joked, making everyone laugh by her sincerity.

“This is a secret we’ll have to keep, alright.” Tommy winked before checking the steak, he then asked Ruby to -carefully- and under his supervision to add cheese to the tortillas. “Chef Shelby only cooks for very very special people.” He added throwing a kiss to the air.

As Charlie brought the plates over the counter, he started slicing the meat and the explosion of flavors in the kitchen started to smell incredibly good.

Y/N’s mother was in charge of the different sauces, it was a usual now in their fridge as Y/N craved tortilla chips with sauce most of the time.

“Wow… this is Instagram worth it.” Y/N admitted taking a looking over Charlie’s shoulder. As the kid grinned at her, he made sure to serve a tortilla in each plate, to then hand it to his father so he could add the carne asada.

“What a beautiful family.” Y/N’s mother admitted, touched by the way Ruby was caressing Y/N’s stomach, Charlie helping with her food and Tommy looking after all of them.

Leaving the spoon, Tommy wrapped an arm around his loved ones while extending his free hand towards his mother in law.

“What are you doing there? You’re part of this too.”

After they were all released from the tightest hug, it was time to finally enjoy some tacos.

“Now shoo,” Tommy ushered Y/N out of the kitchen to arrange the food.

Gathering a tray, he placed the bowl with the guacamole and around all the tacos he just prepared. Leaving a small space for the sauces.

“Oh my God! This is so good!” Y/N admitted loudly after her first taco bite.

“Dad why does Y/N can eat before all of us?” Ruby asked innocently, confused because she was always told to wait until everyone were ready.

Tommy chuckled while Y/N apologized for not waiting the rest of the family.

“We don’t want to upset the baby, Rube. Right mama?”

Y/N nodded, her mouth was watering at the sight of the rest of the food. “That taco was for the baby, the next one is for me.”

After the kids took their place, Y/N’s mother offered a hand to each kid, seated each by her side. “Now what are we grateful for?”

“For this moment.” Tommy took the lead, feeling ever so grateful to have his loved ones in that room.

“For the cheesecake we’ll eat after dinner.” Charlie grinned.

“For this baby, and for each one of you.” Y/N’s words were followed by a smile.

“For my grand son or daughter!” Her mother joined the joy.

“For my little sister or brother.” Ruby added lastly.

“Now…” Tommy interrupted their hands mind-air as they were all after the delicious food on the table. “There’s something else I’m thankful for, tomorrow morning, we’ve to get up early because,” he was then interrupting by a chorus of groans and a pout from Y/N, “nevertheless… we’re going to visit a couple of houses to move in as soon as possible.”

“What?” Y/N was in shock.

“Love, this baby is coming very soon, we’ll need a bigger place than this apartment, I was thinking of a room for each,” he looked over at both children, “a nursery for the baby and of course a guest bedroom so you don’t have to share Ruby’s bed anymore.” He added looking at his mother in law.

“Oh Tommy!” Y/N’s eyes swelled with gratitude.

“I’ve narrowed the search to five properties so you’ll get to make the final decision.” He explained then.

“A house! Tommy a house!” Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“With a garden.” He encouraged.

“Can we have a pool?” Charlie asked.

“I want a doll house!”

“Whatever you want.” Tommy added, winking in Y/N’s direction. “Can we eat now?”

As the kids stormed to get their tacos, Y/N took his hand. A growing smile on her lips.

“You never said anything.” Her eyes sparkled.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m so happy because of you.” Her sincerity wasn’t just in her words, but in her eyes as well.

And deep down, Tommy couldn’t believe that thanks to her, he was able to find stability, loyalty, freedom, love, a family, someone who helped him every day to be a better person.

****

I hope you enjoyed this little story! 🥰 remember, your feedback (in all ways) is always welcome and highly appreciated! ✨ xx

Tacos recipe

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #modern tommy shelby imagine #modern tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #modern peaky blinders #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine

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thegoblinboy · 11 months

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Ok so random thought, but what if Steve was trans (ftm) and no one realizes it. Not even Robin. Just hear me out on this.

The first question out of this I know I’ll get is “Why wouldn’t Steve come out to Robin as well? Why doesn’t Robin know?” Well in my head cannon I believe Steve is aware that he’s trans but just simply forgets. He’s just a guy being a dude in a very judgemental world. That and he’s under stealth mode, he doesn’t want to be treated differently. He’s proud to be trans but in his mind he’s like any other guy, he doesn’t stand out. He’s transitioned socially that he doesn’t even think to much about it unless he’s in the men’s bathroom.

(Also for this au that is being built from scratch this is going to be modern, because I don’t want to accidentally put my experiences as a trans man on a transguy in the 80’s. I’m fully aware that they are different which is why I’m turning this into a modern au.)

There’s loopholes in this idea but I don’t care. Just Steve Harrington who is still getting used to being treated like a man socially. He doesn’t understand the hand shake thing with Lucas or the other jocks and he’s still a bit nervous about all of it. Like he’s finally fitting what he feels and he loves it but hates it at the same time. Because now he has to learn how to be a proper “gentleman” in public, which is a lot easier then hoe he was taught to be a lady. Now both of his parents are not conservative. Shockingly. So they are more open to things then most. Though secretly his father has always wanted a son to pass the business down to and this is the perfect opportunity. His mother isn’t to happy but she finally gets on board. Once he’s sixteen he starts hormones and switches schools, where he becomes king steve. Where he falls into a toxic masculine group of Tommy’s so he can “fit” in.

But then things start to go down hill with the upside down. And everything goes by normal. He meets Robin and they are two pees in the pod. Just missing one, that they are not really searching for but are?

The whole trans thing comes up when they are all in the boat and Steve’s a bit panicked because this means he has to take his shirt off in front of them. This can go to so different ways.

A) He hasn’t had top surgery yet and is currently wearing his binder. Which is skin toned but doesn’t match. He’s beat red as he catches the curious eyes of all of them on the boat. None of them knowing what a binder is. Robin of course asks what that is, and avoiding the question he jumps in and goes under. (You aren’t supposed to swim with your binder on) and he regrets all of his life decisions before coming back up and then being pulled back down. Everyone of course follows along, and after all of it Steve is in a lot of pain. Between the bite and his ribs he has no choice but to pull his binder off. Everything is explained and he’s really embarrassed as he finally gets the damn thing off while holding his chest. Trying to hide his boobs, in which Eddie ends up coming over with the vest. Wrapping it around Steve carefully with the most awkward back pat ever. Like it’s not brought up, but Steve does end up wearing one of Eddie’s old baggy shirts from what’s “83” but really a different year because it’s modern. And his vest as well to help cover his chest and it’s the most gender euphoria ever. (Also he still has a hairy chest, so before he gets the shirt and the vest is covering most of his moobs Eddie nearly dies seeing his chest hair)

Or it goes B) where he’s had top surgery but it’s been a bit more recent. He’s still recovering and he has to awkwardly check his wrap his on properly before diving in. Like he shouldn’t be swimming either and he has to awkwardly explain what top surgery is to them. And robin who can’t help the jokes

“I thought you liked boobs!”

But just Steve being fully accepted. And after everything Eddie just sneaks some more baggy masculine clothes that Steve has been wanting to wear but weren’t preppy enough for his parents.

Like there is so much with this idea

(This all started because I pictured Steve with top surgery scars with Eddie’s vest, but also pre op steve with his vest is also equally as gender. Though do not feminize his chest or else I’ll bite you.)

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #trans steve harrington #modern au #Steve and testosterone shots #trans steve in Eddie’s vest has me

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ladykailitha · 2 months

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Well Met By Moonlight Part 11

Hello! More supernatural fun with our boys and I finally got to write that sexy blood drinking between Eddie and Steve that I had been wanting to write for the longest time, but all my vampire Eddie stories kept turning out angsty and there was no place for it.

Got you now!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve was enjoying his time with Josh. The younger boy was enthusiastic and friendly. He had even won over Tommy, which Steve had previously thought impossible.

He was going to be sad to lose him to Billy and get Chase in return.

He was also more careful about what he said around the young teen and Tommy now. As much as he enjoyed Josh’s company the thought that he might spill gossip on the pack to Billy when he is forced to finish the remainder of his service with the coven.

He was really on edge now that the full moon was coming, too. He could feel it under his skin. The way the moonlight’s strength was changing his body on the cellular level. His mannerisms and habits were becoming more and more wolf-like and less human.

He could feel the wolf’s strength in his arms and chest. Its cunning and instinct taking over his ability to rationalize.

When he shifted himself, he was able to keep himself. But the full moon was different. It stripped away every human thing about him. Maybe it was wrong for his foster parents to be afraid of him the rest of the time, but even he felt it was warranted the closer he got to the full moon.

“You can’t be serious about having him here,” Carol was hissing at him.

Steve’s lip curled as he bit back a growl. “I don’t know why it’s such a problem. Josh is going to be there.”

“Josh is a human that can be manipulated,” Carol insisted. “Eddie Munson is a made vampire with ties to the town’s oldest living supe. A close familial tie no less.”

The growl started in the back of Steve’s throat and ripped from his lips. “You are only a keeper, Carol, may I remind you?”

She put her hands on her hips, decidedly uncowed. “Yes and we used to be friends before you got a raging hard on for curly haired nerds.”

Steve huffed through his nose. “You mean the smartest girl in school, the latest in the longest line of hereditary keepers from the Buckleys, and the man who saved my life? Are those who we’re talking about Carol?”

She stared him down. “You are already facing problems with the older crowd, not being mated to your female alpha, do you really want to start your third year as alpha banishing half of your pack? Do you even realize how weak you already look to Billy? You’ve only managed to raise one of his eyebrows recently after the attack. Before that he thought the pack was too lame to even bother with.”

Steve could feel his hackles rise. His lips properly curled. “Yeah and you Billy’s bitch, too?”

Carol stepped back, stunned for the first time. “What do you mean, ‘too’?”

“Someone is going around behind my back and telling Billy pack business, Carol,” he snarled. “You one of them?”

She blinked up at him in shock. “Jesus fuck, Steve. I would never. Why would you even think that?” Tears came unbidden to her eyes. “I wouldn’t betray you like that. Fuck.”

“Well someone did,” Steve spat. “Billy knew about Josh’s news about the moon days before I had even gotten out of the mayor’s office, Carol. Which meant that it had to be someone in the pack. Who the hell am I supposed to trust if I can’t trust my own fucking pack!”

She took two steps forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I get it now. You want someone you can trust watching your back on Friday, but it can’t be Eddie. Trust me. I know you feel like you can’t, but you just said you have to trust someone, so trust me.”

Steve let out a low whine. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to so badly. She was right, they used to be friends. Good ones, too. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered.

She nodded. “I get that. I can’t go back and change who I was in high school, but know that I’ve got your back. Okay?”

He swept her up in a hug and held on tight.

Behind them in the trees, a darkness seemed to taint the woods around it. A malevolent force that was all at once pleased and angry.

****

Steve was suddenly bombarded with members of the pack coming up to him about his desire to have Eddie participate in the full moon festivities. Most of them were negative.

“I don’t know how you heard about this,” Steve was saying for what felt like the billionth time. “But I don’t see why I can invite the man who saved my life to have my back during the full moon.”

“Because he’s a vampire, Steve!” Nancy hissed. “I have tolerated his presence in your life because until now it has not inferred with pack business, so as your alpha female, I’m putting my foot down. He steps even a toe over the pack boundary and I’ll be forced to challenge you myself.”

And that right there was his biggest reason why he wanted Robin to accept the bite to become a werewolf.

Steve thought about making her submit. He could have. But he wasn’t pack alpha just because he was the strongest male wolf in the pack. Oh no.

Steve lifted his chin and stared down at her, until she crossed her arms and looked away. He smirked.

Nancy rocked back on her heel and Steve knew he had won.

“All right,” he said with satisfaction. “He won’t toe the boundary.”

Her head snapped up in shock, her mouth open and eyes wide. “What?”

Steve pursed his lips and half shrugged. “You don’t want him on the ground, that’s fine.”

He turned his heel and walked away, leaving behind a stunned Nancy Wheeler.

“Steve!” she called. “Steve! What does that mean?”

****

Steve was curled up with Eddie on his bed in the trailer.

“Why are they so against it anyway?” Eddie murmured into Steve’s ear.

“Because they think that what happens during the full moon is sacred,” he huffed.

“I still don’t get it,” Eddie admitted.

“It’s this really stupid thing, ‘it’s not a secret it’s sacred.’” Steve rolled in Eddie’s arms so that they were face to face. “It’s just their way of not wanting to talk about it to ‘strangers’. Like Wayne hasn’t been to a few in his long life.”

Eddie scoffed. “It’s like they don’t realize that the world doesn’t revolve around them.”

“And it’s newer than they think, too,” Steve murmured. “According to Wayne it’s only been in the last decade or so.”

“So who arrived ten years ago?” Eddie asked, rubbing his nose along Steve’s pulse point.

Steve gasped. “That’s thing, I don’t know. I wasn’t a pack member at the time.”

That caused Eddie to sit up and look down at him. “What do you mean, sweetheart? I thought your dad was pack and your mom was bitten.”

Steve sat up, too and hugged his knees to his chest. “When I was seven or eight my parents were killed by hunters while they were abroad. It was really big news at the time. They were rich, well-liked, beautiful couple with a son at home.”

Eddie frowned. “I would have still been with my parents around that time. My mom would have been nearing the end of her cancer diagnosis, so I would have been focused on that instead of some news story.” He rubbed his chin. “So why were you removed from the pack?”

Steve buried his head into his knees. “No one has been able to tell me why I was fostered by a human couple and not a supernatural one. Only that it was right when Hop had gone off the deep after his daughter died.”

“So your parents are murdered by hunters, Hopper’s daughter dies, driving him into deep spiral, you get placed into the care of humans that are terrified of werewolves and abuse you...” he trailed off. “Honey, not to sound like a nutjob, but this is way too much of a coincidence to be natural.”

Steve nodded. “Someone didn’t want my dad vying for alpha, probably because he was too clever and too liberal minded.”

“And I don’t think they were expecting you to come back to the pack after you graduated,” Eddie concluded. “I think whoever killed your parents, orchestrated the attack on you.”

“Shit.”

Eddie was right and that really sent a chill down his spine. “I don’t trust anyone in my pack, Eds. Not a god damned one of them. I’m so frightened and I don’t know what to do.”

“So instead of having me there, have Wayne be there instead,” Eddie suggested.

Steve looked up. “What do you mean?”

“There is precedence for it,” he explained. “You said so yourself. Because god damn it, Steve, I’m terrified too.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and gently lowered them back on to the bed. He nuzzled Steve throat, breathing in the thrum of life right below his skin.

“Let me take care of you for awhile,” Eddie purred. He licked up the column of Steve’s neck causing him to moan obscenely.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Yeah, babe. Take care of me.”

Eddie’s fangs extended of their own accord. “Honey...I want to taste you. So, so much.”

Steve shivered. “Just not on my neck where they can see.”

Eddie moaned at how hard that made him. He would finally get to drink from his werewolf boyfriend and he knew exactly where he wanted to taste.

He slid down Steve body, the other boy bucking his hips at the agonizingly light touch of his hands.

Eddie licked down Steve’s cock, causing Steve to arch his back.

“Eds...” he whispered. His whole body was vibrating like a plucked guitar string.

Eddie nuzzled his balls and Steve panted heavily, his words lost to pleasure already. He brought up one of Steve’s legs to bending at the knee. He kissed down the thigh until his mouth was in the perfect spot. Right there on that magnificent thick muscle was a vein much like the on the neck or wrist.

Again he nuzzled Steve’s balls with his nose causing his boyfriend to gasp. He licked the spot he was going to partake from and god was the scent even more intoxicating then the throat. His saliva would numb the area so he wouldn’t hurt Steve.

“Baby...” Steve moaned, his body was beginning to quiver and shake.

Eddie’s teeth sank into the skin and Steve came immediately, his body practically levitating off the bed as his cum painted his stomach with ribbon after ribbon.

It took all of Eddie’s will to focus on feeding instead of coming himself. Steve’s stamina was legendary and for him to come that fast did things to Eddie. So hot.

“Fuck.”

Eddie could only agree. The blood was warm and golden. It tasted even better without the taint of fear and silver. He took only a few mouthfuls because he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop if he had gotten more than that.

Again he licked the area, this time it closed the wound. Eddie sat up and lined up his cock. He needed to come in Steve. He looked at him for permission and Steve nodded.

Eddie thrust into Steve’s ass and began to pound into those beautiful globes of flesh.

Soon Steve was coming again and Eddie followed soon after. Just seeing Steve come a second time was enough to finish him.

Eddie collapsed next to him on the bed.

“We are definitely doing that again,” Steve huffed, covering his eyes with his arm.

Eddie kissed his raised arm gently. “Yeah, sweetheart. I knew drinking made sex better, but holy shit that was a whole other level.”

Steve chuckled and curled around Eddie. “Agreed.”

****

Moon night approached and Steve was left without the protection of Eddie or Wayne. Despite Steve’s request for Wayne and bringing up precedence for him having done so in the past the pack was staunchly against it.

The moon came up and the pack changed. Their bodies rippled with heat and danger as humans gave way to their wolfish nature. Screams pierced the air. Screams that turned into howls.

The moon slid through the night sky and the pack surged forward as one.

The keepers watched on in silence.

Waiting.

Preparing.

Then the sun came up and in the middle of their compound was a puppy pile of naked bodies of all the werewolves, sleeping off the forced change of the full moon.

Suddenly Tommy came crashing in through the underbrush screaming and sobbing.

“Patrick McKinney was attacked last night!”

Steve leapt to his feet and Robin was at his side quicker than lightning. A slow dread filled his stomach as ice slid down his spine.

“Human or supe?” he snapped.

“Billy found him,” Tommy admitted, looking down at his feet. “He’s pretty sure it was supernatural, but the scent is too muddled, he can’t tell the kind.”

Steve looked around him and saw several of his pack with blood around their mouths and over their bodies.

“Steve!” Robin gasped as she took him in. “Look down!”

Steve immediately did as she asked. He too was covered in blood.

“What the hell happened last night?” he whispered.

****

Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson

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soleilceirinen · 4 months

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When the darkness comes | Tommy Shelby x Shadowhunter!Reader - Part 2

Summary: you are a shadowhunter investigating the sudden rise of yin fen in the Downworld, the trail leads you to Small Heath and a blue eyed gangster.

A/N: English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

Part 1 - PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST

Since your first encounter with Thomas Shelby, you had been following him everywhere, day and night. A week had passed and you could tell that the man was getting more and more paranoid each day, clearly aware that he was being followed. He even commented on it to some of his peers but they simply told him to relax.

From what you had been able to observe, it was clear to you that Thomas was not a vampire. You had seen him walking in broad sunlight and drinking alcohol although you had not caught him eating something solid yet. Also, you were almost sure that he wasn’t one of the fey despite being pretty enough to be one of them.

He didn’t seem to be a werewolf either, because many times you were able to see the shine of his silver cigarette box in his hand. Besides, at that precise moment you were watching him under the light of the full moon and he wasn’t showing any sign of changing.

At this point you still needed to find out if he was a warlock, a demon or just a mundane with the Sight. Despite Greater Demons often taking the form of handsome men wearing suits, which you did find quite funny, you were almost sure that it wasn’t the case here. So, warlock or mundane it was, but in order to figure it out you needed to see him completely naked.

Warlocks were the offspring of a mundane woman and a demon, and they always had a mark that indicated their true nature such a weird skin or eye colour, horns, claws, a tail, scales… but you couldn’t see any with him wearing so many layers of clothing. If he had a mark, it was well hidden.

You were in a narrow alley near the Garrison, so distracted thinking about how you were going to make him undress that you didn't notice the moment he disappeared from your sight. You returned to reality after noticing a presence behind you. Slowly, you turned around until you were facing Thomas Shelby, who was pointing his gun at your face.

"You're following me," he said through clenched teeth. It wasn't a question, he already knew the answer.

You looked at the way he gripped the handle of the gun, his knuckles white from the pressure, and shrugged slightly.

“Well, that’s true. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. In fact,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “if I hadn’t gotten distracted thinking about… uh, something, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now”, you finished with a small smile.

He stared at you impassively with his serious face, like a cold mask. “Are you Russian?”, he questioned. You looked from his face to the barrel of his gun and back to his face. He seemed exasperated at your lack of response. “Italian? Why are you following me?”

“I was born and raised in Idris but now I live in London. I want to know more about yourself, Mr. Shelby, that’s all. Could you stop pointing your gun at me? I don’t think those are good manners”, you stated simply.

Thomas let out a hiss but never put the gun away. He seemed like a trapped animal and you didn’t doubt that he would shoot you if he wanted. With a sight, you slowly raised your hands showing him your palms in an attempt to let him know that you weren’t going to hurt him.

“I would like to talk to you, Mr. Shelby”, you said softly. “I know you’ve been sending yin fen to America, but do you even know what you are selling?”

His lips parted as if he were going to say something, you could almost imagine the hinges inside his head turning over and over again. And behind all that, a confused expression.

“What do you know about magic Mr. Shelby?” you continued without taking your eyes away from his blue ones.

“My aunt can talk to the dead and I could tell your fortune and charm dogs,” he said bitterly. You couldn’t tell if he was serious or messing with you.

Tilting your head to the side, you dedicated him another smile, this time wider. “Oh, I see. If I were you, I would speak a little quietly because they are going to think that you have lost your mind, talking alone in the middle of an alley and pointing your gun to the void.”

“What?”

A pair of footsteps were approaching, they were probably heading in the direction of the Garrison but at some point they would pass by the entrance to the alley and they would see you. Well, not you. Those who approached were talking in low voices, a man and a woman as far as you could tell. Her heels clicked melodically against the wet cobblestones.

When Thomas turned his head in their direction, you took your chance and jumped away from him with a series of fluid movements thanks to years of training. From the top of a roof a couple of buildings away, you watched the scene.

The woman asked Thomas what he was doing there. He was still holding the gun with his arm outstretched, pointing at nothing. When he realised that you had disappeared, he lowered the gun and rubbed his hand over his face in a dejected gesture.

“Don’t pay attention to him Ada”, said the man, who now you identified as Arthur. “Lately our Tommy has been acting like this, trying to convince us that he’s been followed. I bet he was talking to the ghost before we arrived, am I right Tommy boy?”

Arthur laughed but Ada seemed to be worried. She took a few steps and grabbed Thomas by the arm, pulling him out of the alley. “Have you been taking opium, Tom? Are you seeing things again?”

Thomas shook his head. After taking one last look at the alley, he let his siblings drag him to the Garrison.

#thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #shadowhunter!reader #the shadowhunter chronicles #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #shadowhunters and peaky blinders

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suzdin · 9 months

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Jackson: a Joel Miller fanfic

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: You’re taken into the town of Jackson, Wyoming after being captured by members of the council. Unfortunately, one of your captors isn’t too fond of you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in 30s), angry broody Joel, dom!Joel, smut, semi-public sex, rough sex, dubcon, unprotected p in v, graphic depictions of sex, minimal fluff, some angst, enemies to lovers, mention of loss, mention of violence and weapons, hematolagnia

——

“What exactly are we going to do with her, Tommy? Let her loose only to run back and tell ‘er friends where we are? Huh?”

The voice that drifts in from two rooms over is low, velvet, southern. You hadn’t heard an accent like that since before—well. Since before everything happened.

“We can’t just kill her, Joel, she didn’t want to be with those men!” a second masculine voice responds. “She’s as much a victim as—“

“As who? Diana? ‘Fore she killed her?” the first voice growls. Deep, dark, like ragged silk to your ears.

You feel like the conversation you’re overhearing was meant to be hushed. You also feel like they don’t care that it isn’t, prolonging your torture that much more before they get around to actually killing you. Your hands strain uselessly against the ropes binding you to the chair, and your lip throbs where a third person—a woman—busted it with the butt of a rifle.

You just wish they’d get on with it instead of arguing about it two rooms over.

A third voice chimes in, and you recognize it as belonging to the woman who gave you your still-bleeding fat lip.

“Maybe we could bring her in. Let her prove her worth. We could always use another hand in the work force,” the woman says.

“‘Specially now that Diana’s out of commission? Sure. Bring her in, feed her, give her a bed to sleep in. Why not, Maria?” the original voice quips back.

There’s a settling of air and everyone falls silent for a moment.

“It could work, Joel,” Tommy says. “The man you killed—the one with the red jacket—he made her kill Diana. Saw it with my own eyes. She didn’t want to. She was scared for her life.”

“Should be scared for her life now,” Joel responds.

You whimper and continue to struggle against the restraints, but they’re too tight, too expertly knotted against your skin. You feel the sobs wanting to break free of your lungs, expanding to a tight pressure in your chest, but you choke them back. You don’t want to give the man—Joel, they called him—the satisfaction of seeing you scared; of begging for your life.

“I can hear you, you know,” you call out boldly.

You hear the shuffling of multiple pairs of boots on cracked, dusty wood, and then a large shadow darkens the doorway of the room you’re in.

“Good,” Joel says, his face contorted into a scowl. His dark eyes study you. His hair is dusted with gray, sweeping into the scruff peppering his jaw. You guess he’s probably in his mid-fifties, but judging by the muscles you see moving beneath his clothing, you can tell he’s still in ridiculously good shape.

He’s tall. And broad. There’s a rifle slung across his torso and his wide shoulders flex under the flannel he’s wearing as he removes the gun to point the barrel straight at you.

A hand shoots out from around the edge of the doorway to grab the rifle: Tommy’s.

“Joel…” Tommy says, softly.

You make a meager, pathetic sound, unable to keep your fear in check if only for a moment, but it’s enough for him.

Joel doesn’t take his dark eyes off of you as a single corner of his mouth quirks into the ghost of a bemused smirk, nor do they move when he lowers the gun to his side.

“Who were those men?” he asks, stepping further into the room. Tommy follows suit and Maria is not far behind. “Where’d you come from?”

“Nowhere. I mean—a camp, about five miles from here. Just the four of us. They had been talking about raiding here for weeks, before they actually…” You swallow the hard, painful lump in your throat. “…attempted it.”

“And the men?” Maria asks.

“Found me wandering the roads in Colorado, after…” you trail off, inhaling as a wash of memories come flooding back. “After my grandparents were killed. By clickers. We had a cabin for years, just outside of Boulder. Burnt it to the ground when—when the attack happened. A lantern got knocked over.”

Joel’s eyes bore tunnels into you. You can feel the disdain rolling off of him in waves that almost seem to darken the room around you. For you, or for the men whose names you never even bothered learning, you aren’t sure. Both, probably.

“What was the plan?” Tommy asks you, stepping next to Joel.

“To use me as a decoy so they could sneak in,” you say. “But it all went to shit when they were spotted and they panicked, so they gave me a gun and told me to just start shooting. I didn’t want to do it, I swear, I…” You can feel your resolve slipping, the tears threatening to breach, so you dig your fingers into the wood so the pain can distract you. “Didn’t even think I’d hit anyone, I’m such a shit shot—”

You swallow, again.

“I was about to turn the gun on them when…” You cast your eyes to the woman standing between the two men. “…when I got knocked out.”

The three of them exchange glances. Silently deciding your fate. Eventually, Maria takes a step forward.

“What’s your name?” she asks, so you tell them.

“Nice to meet you. This is my husband, Tommy, and his brother, Joel. Welcome to Jackson,” she says. “You’ll help out around town in whatever way you can. You won’t leave these walls without an escort. Won’t do anything we don’t give you a direct order to do. Is that a deal?”

You nod. “It’s a deal,” you reply, your throbbing, swollen lip quivering. “Look, I’m sorry about… about Diana…”

You feel Joel move before you actually see it, the shifting boards beneath your chair the only indication that his massive frame is moving into your space. Your breath leaving you when you realize what’s happening.

His large, rough hand whips out to grab your chin in an iron grasp, and he tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. His lips are parted in a partial snarl, and if it’s even possible, the slope of his chest and shoulders appear even broader from this angle, a single vein popping out of of his neck like a lazily winding river in flesh.

The pressure of his hold around the bottom half of your face causes more blood to seep out of your busted lip.

You think he might break your neck. Might snap it in half and be done with it. There’s something wild and chaotic and furious behind those eyes, and the look of him coupled with the fact that he’s still gripping you to the point of pain shouldn’t be turning you on right now, but it is. Heat pulses deep in your core—from the fear, from the pain—and you almost whimper in his grasp. It isn’t audible, but when his fingers readjust slightly, you think he may have felt it.

“She was a friend. A real asset to the community. Don’t you speak her name ever again,” he growls, his hand unmoving from you, the squeeze unrelenting. “Got that?”

You nod, or try to. And you do whimper for real this time.

He lets you go, not saying another word, stalking out of the room like some caged animal recently set free. Tommy and Maria give him a wide berth as they watch him go.

When he’s out of sight, they start undoing the restraints.

——

Jackson isn’t so bad compared to where you were. It isn’t the comfy cabin in the woods with your grandparents, but it’s better than sleeping on dirt. You at least have a cot to yourself in one corner of the mess hall, which is more than you thought they would be willing to give you.

The people are friendly for the most part. Tommy and Maria decide, for your well-being, not to tell people what you did, but you think some of them probably know anyway. Still, they accept you as one of their own, as long as you hold up your end of the work. Which you do, gladly.

You’re mostly assigned to stable duty, taking care of and tending to the horses and the barn. Sometimes, you help out with food preparations or cooking, and occasionally they just sort of toss you wherever they need an extra hand. It’s hard work, but it’s nice, and it keeps you busy whenever you can’t get the unmovable force that is Joel Miller out of your mind.

He has an adopted daughter named Ellie. He’s fiercely protective of her, doesn’t like when you talk to her—hates it, in fact, has told you so multiple times—even though she’s keen to talk to you as often as possible. She’s a foul mouthed little spitfire, but you enjoy your conversations with her when you do manage to escape the sights of Joel, which isn’t often.

You see him frequently, skulking about town, toting that rifle at his back, glaring daggers into you every chance he gets. He’s barely spoken three words to you since the day you were captured.

It’s a cool spring evening when you spot him and Tommy coming back from a run. You can tell right away that the mood is dour; you can read it clearly on their faces, tell by the way Tommy is slumped slightly in his saddle. Maria goes to greet them, and as Tommy slips from his horse, you think you see blood on his shirt, but you’re not sure.

He disappears with Maria a moment later, and Joel grabs Tommy’s horse by the reins to lead them back toward the stables. You think about helping him, but you also don’t want to get in Joel’s way. You especially don’t want to be alone with him right now.

As he turns, you think you spot blood on him, too.

You head to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needs any help. You confirm that they don’t, and so you wander back outside as the sun is just starting to dip below the horizon. You turn down the street you know Joel and Ellie live on, as you are want to do sometimes, hoping to steal a glance of Joel when you’re pretty sure he isn’t looking. He isn’t there, now, of course, but this is one of the nicer streets in Jackson, so you enjoy walking it when you have free time.

Ellie finds you and comes racing to your side. She asks about her dad and you tell her you saw him a few minutes ago, heading to the stables and that he’ll probably be home soon.

She starts telling you about a girl that she likes at school, about her classes, about everything. You laugh and smile along with her, offering advice when she asks about how to talk to the girl she has a crush on. Ellie may be less than half your age, but she’s probably your only friend in Jackson, so you always enjoy your chats.

“You should come have dinner with Joel and I sometime,” she says, and you politely decline.

“Sorry, um—I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you tell her.

“I don’t know why my dad doesn’t like you.”

“No clue,” you say back, although it’s a lie. Ellie may not know the reason, but she can sniff out a lie from a mile away. You’d like to tell her, but you don’t want to tarnish her image of you.

The telltale waft of food aroma finds your nostrils and you let her know that the two of you should probably head to the mess hall to have dinner. You know you can’t sit with her, though. Joel would never abide by it.

“Sure,” she says. “But let me go get my jacket real quick. Gettin’ kinda fuckin’ cold out here.”

You tell her you’ll meet her there.

As she turns to leave, you tuck your hands into your jeans pockets and begin walking towards the mess hall. It is getting a bit chilly, so you increase your pace to brisk; the only sound you hear are your heavy footfalls against earth.

You veer to take a shortcut around the back, down an unlit alley way, not really looking where you’re going because you’ve already memorized the route. The enticing aroma of food draws nearer, and you can’t wait to quell the hunger pangs you’re feeling after having worked a long day tending to the horses.

You’re so oblivious to your surroundings that you don’t notice the shape in the dark until a large, vice-like hand is swallowing your arm in its grip, and you try to yelp, but a second hand claps over your mouth before you can, and a body—large, firm, broad—is pushing you up against a wall.

“Thought I told you not t’talk to my daughter,” you hear a voice say, and you don’t need to confirm who it is before your eyes have a chance to adjust to the dim lighting: it’s Joel.

He smells like sweat and blood and woods. You notice a spray of crimson on his flannel, bits of it flecked on his face. He lowers his hand away from your mouth and pierces your soul with his obsidian eyes.

“Maybe tell her to stay away from me, then,” you snap back. Joel’s front is still pressed firmly against you. It’s enough to make you want to rub up against him like a cat in heat.

“Already have,” he responds. “Didn’t work, obviously.”

“What did you tell her about me?” you ask.

“Nothin’ she wouldn’t have been able to work out on her own,” he replies. “She’s a smart kid.”

You swallow. So she knows about Diana. You aren’t sure if they were close, but the thought hurts you all the same.

“She is,” you agree.

You try to untangle yourself from his grasp, but he holds true. A soft growl escapes from his throat.

“Need to go. Dinner time.”

“Not ‘til I’m done with you.”

“What do you want me to say, Joel? I’m sorry? I tried that. Didn’t work. So can we just move on, please? Like it or not, I’m here for a while,” you say, feeling emboldened.

He doesn’t answer you. Not right away. That same ghost of a smirk you remember from the first day returns, hooking the edges of his lips into an upward curl, and something passes over his visage, raw and hungering as he stares at you.

“I notice you lookin’ at me a lot. Got somethin’ you need to tell me?” he asks, his face inches from yours. You can feel the heat from his breath on your skin.

You shake your head at him. “N-not particularly,” you say. “Are you hurt? You’re covered in blood.”

His smirk widens and it’s the first time you’ve seen him where he isn’t glowering at you. “Ain’t mine,” he says. “Tommy and I were attacked on the road, but we fought ‘em off.”

Your eyes go wide at that. “Oh my god! Are you both okay?” you ask, true concern coloring your words. You had developed a fondness for Tommy and Maria in the weeks you’ve been living here. And Joel, of course.

“We’re fine. Other guys ain’t, though,” he replies.

You notice his grip on your arm hasn’t relented yet. You twitch under his hold.

“Can I go now?” you press.

“Told you I ain’t done with you,” he replies.

“What do you want, then?” You push against him impatiently, and he rumbles deep in his throat, the sound going straight to your core. You were already wet just from the way he has you pinned against this wall, but the sound he emits only makes it that much worse.

“Think you know what I want,” he says, his voice husky and dripping with desire. He presses his hips into yours, and you feel the hard press of his cock against your center. His hand moves to your throat. “Think you been wantin’ it, too.”

White hot heat pools in the pit of your stomach and you arch against him on instinct. He groans. “Mm. Was I right, baby?”

“Yes—yes. Joel. Fuck.”

“Been wantin’ it since that first day, haven’t you? Could tell by the sounds you made when I grabbed you. And now you walk around here like—like some saint. Like some goddamn angel. Like nothing ever happened.”

His hand squeezes tighter around your throat.

“Answer me,” he commands.

“Y-yes. Yes.”

“Good girl,” he says, unbuckling your pants. “Now turn around.”

You do as he asks without question because it’s Joel and he commands that type of respect. Because you’ve wanted this. Dreamt about it every night with your hand between your legs.

You feel him crouch behind you and his hands move to your hips, thick fingers hooking into your jeans and underwear to yank them down your legs in a single motion, leaving you exposed.

His hands swim up your backside, cupping you, squeezing your ass into his heavy palms. Your skin prickles against his touch, against the cold air.

“Mm. Now bend over f’me, pretty girl,” he says. “Show me that pussy you been wantin’ to get filled.”

You whimper at that, and bend as far as you can without falling over, spreading for him. You’re already drenched, your slick running down your inner thighs.

You thought Joel hated your guts, wanted to kill you, and now here you are pressed against a wall, pants around your ankles, with him at your back.

He might still hate you, though.

He bends forward, mere inches from your leaking, throbbing sex, squeezing your hips together under his hands to get you to clench in front of him, which you do.

“Mm. Such a pretty fucking cunt. This all for me?” he asks.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say.

He says nothing further, pulling you against his face so he can take your cunt into his mouth, tongue lashing out at your seam, licking a slow stripe from your clit to your opening. You buck into him and moan, pushing against the flat of his tongue.

He pulls away a second later, and you whine at the loss of his tongue. “That feel good, baby?” he growls, his voice thick with sin.

“Y-yes, fuck. Yes.”

He grins, but you can’t see it. Then he’s pushing back into you, tongue penetrating your hole, drinking you slowly, one hand coming around to stroke your clit under the pad of his finger. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, the way your legs tremble as he makes you feel good in every way you don’t deserve, least of all from him.

He rumbles into your core from all the sweet noises you’re making for him, for Joel, your hands scrabbling for purchase against the wall.

He turns you now, your back to the wall, spreading your pussy with one hand while the other dips a finger into you. You can see his knuckles, raw, swollen and cracked, as his teeth graze your clit. The sight of it makes you moan and roll forward, slipping your fingers into his soft, dark curls for grip.

He buries himself all the way to the last knuckle, finger crooking to hit the sensitive spongy spot at the back of your tunnel, and when you make more sounds of approval for him, he sinks another finger in.

“You like that, angel?” he asks, lips brushing your core. You make some kind of inaudible noise in response, urging him to continue.

A smile splays his lips, his gaze drunk and sparkling with lust. He fucks into you with his fingers, sucking and nibbling at your clit, and you’re impervious to stop the way your legs shake against him, already so close to falling apart.

“Oh god, Joel—“

He increases his speed, fingers somehow achieving that perfect angle each time, his mouth doing all sorts of delicious things to your throbbing clit.

“Fuck, I’m about to come—“

He makes another deep noise against you and that’s enough to send you over the edge, the orgasm tearing through you without relent as you grind shamelessly against his face. He rides out your orgasm until he feels you’ve had enough, moving away, remaining on his knees before you.

He grabs your arm and pulls you down to his level, fisting a handful of your hair, guiding your mouth to his lips still slick with your cum, tasting yourself there, which sends more fire straight to your core. He licks at the inside of your mouth, kissing you with urgency, hungering.

“On all fours,” he commands, his words drenched in a heavy growl, and you oblige him.

You hear the metallic zzzzt of a zipper behind you, followed by the shuffling of fabric as he works his jeans and boxers down his legs.

You can’t help but crane your neck over your shoulder to look, to see him—you’ve been wondering all this time what he looks like—and you aren’t at all surprised to see the heft and girth of it, a monster between his legs, weeping precum for you.

He notices you watching and shoves you forward again.

“Turn around,” he says, lowly.

He grips himself at the base and glides the head of his cock through you, gathering your slick, before notching himself at your opening.

“You ready, pretty girl? Think you can handle this cock?”

“I know I can,” you reply with a whimper.

“Know you can, too,” he agrees.

He lines his hips up with yours and presses into you, slowly stretching you, and you gasp at the way he splits you open, an aching and delicious sting. He sinks himself to the hilt and holds there a moment, pulling back out just as slowly, and then slapping his hips roughly forward again to plunge himself deep inside of you in one blinding go.

You cry out at the intrusion, and you feel a broad hand circle your throat. “Shut up,” he grits between clenched teeth. “Gonna— mmm— gonna get us caught.”

He begins to pump into you steadily, keeping one hand to your throat, the other planted firmly on your hip. You’ve never had anyone fill you up like this before, each thrust bumping your g-spot, making you whimper for him.

“Makin’ such pretty noises f’me,” he drawls. “Such a good girl.”

He thrusts into you, every motion of his body as he slams into you from behind accentuated with his own ragged breaths and grunts, his finger tips digging into your skin, marking you. Claiming you.

You want to be claimed by Joel Miller. Owned by him. You want people to give you the respect Joel receives simply because you belong to HIM. God, you’ve wanted this since day one, but were too scared to even talk to him.

As your noises grow louder and more dizzying with every thrust, the hand on your throat tightens that much more, making you delirious with pleasure. His grip is firm, unyielding, yet he knows what he’s doing, how much pressure to use, how to read your body for signs that it’s too much.

His fucking is so angry and so primal, but he’s still giving you exactly what you want, and you aren’t sure how you’ll ever be able to recover from this. How you’ll be able to stumble into the mess hall after this, delirious and completely fucked out, to sit down by your lonesome and pretend Joel Miller didn’t just fuck your senses straight out of you.

“You’re doing so good, baby, takin’ this cock so well. Takin’ everything I can give you,” he groans.

You can barely breathe anymore, the anger and power of his thrusts removing all the air from your lungs. His hand moves from your throat to the tangle of your hair, tipping your head back with his fist. Your noises are loud and erratic now, and he no longer seems to care.

“Gonna come again f’me, baby? On this cock?” he growls darkly.

“—y-yes, Joel, god, yes…” you manage to spit out, your vision going blurry.

If it’s even possible, the way he slams into you becomes even harder, quicker, angrier, and a sound unlike any you’ve heard yourself make before claws its way out of your lungs. You come again, euphoria crashing through you like a freight train, like a drugged out high; your walls clenching down around his length, every ripple of muscle sucking him even deeper, hitting that sweet spot to prolong your orgasm as long as you can.

“That’s it. That’s it, angel. Come for me as you take this cock,” he growls. “Like a good fucking girl—“

A guttural roar bubbles up from Joel’s chest, his ruts stalling harshly as he rams as hard as he can into your pulsing cunt once, twice, then pulling out at the last second to spray hot, thick ropes of ejaculate across your bare ass.

He lets you go, sinking back onto his calves, and you fall to the ground beneath you, panting and still shaking from the release you were just gifted.

“You okay?” Joel asks, placing a shaky hand on your leg.

“Better than okay,” you reply, burying your face in the crook of your elbow. Laughing. Your pulse is drumming hot between your ears, but you think you hear him laugh, too. The first time you ever have. It’s like music to your ears.

He zips himself back up and cleans the spend on your back with a handkerchief. After a moment for you to collectively gather yourselves, he helps you to your feet. Even helps you unfurl your clothes and fix your hair.

“C’mon,” he says in that velvety smooth southern drawl. “Let’s go have dinner, if anythin’s left by now.”

You laugh, smiling, trying to regain your composure as you follow Joel to the mess hall. Together.

#writing #author #fanfic #pedro pascal #romance #smut #the last of us #joel miller #pedro fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel x reader #joel fanfiction

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chelseeebe · 1 year

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pick a side or i’ll pick you both. (part two)

blood, guts and gore. cheating, smut.. idk what there isn’t in here.

summary: what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted? does anyone make it out of hawkins alive?

a/n: idk if i like this hehe. i’ve also not really read it through bc i detest reading anything i’ve written so excuse any mistakes. i’ve written a small epilogue for this which i’m gonna post separately soon!

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent @nope-thanks @secretdryrose @bibieddiesgf @val-writesstuff

part one. | part two. | epilogue.

for a memorial, things were pretty wild. suppose with the whole town still reeling from the murders, it was to be expected that people wanted to let loose.

including steve.

who was sat jabbering on about nancy and the amazing memories he held with jason. utter bullshit. but he was incredibly intoxicated so you’d let him off.

you stay away from the drink, nursing a singular beer all night. too afraid to get drunk and let go of your inhibitions. unsure of what you might let slip.

eddie was at least keeping his part of the deal, sat in the corner with jonathan. feeding him shots and occasionally disappearing to the garden to smoke. you watched on anxiously. getting sly looks from eddie every now and again.

they weren’t exactly telling you much.

he nods towards the stairs, standing up and walking away. you waited a moment before following. fobbing steve off to a member of the basketball team sat next to you.

you have to open every last door and eventually find eddie perched against the sink in the bathroom. gnawing on the skin around his fingernails.

‘finally,’ he remarks, throwing his hands up.

you lock the door behind you and stand opposite him, ‘so? what did he say?’

eddie sighs, finishing off his drink, ‘well, the bad news is that he definitely thinks you had something to do with it.’

‘what?’ you hiss, widening your eyes at how nonchalantly he just said that.

‘but,’ he pauses for dramatic effect, ‘he thinks steve’s involved.. some jealous ex thing, he wasn’t really making sense at this point.’

you exhale, so jonathan doesn’t necessarily think you killed nancy. just that you helped steve do it. which wasn’t really any better.

‘fuck,’ you sigh, rubbing your forehead. where the fuck do you go from here besides the obvious?

‘hey, maybe it’s not all that bad.. he doesn’t think it was you exactly, we could just.. convince him it was someone else?’

‘he thinks it was steve,’ you say pointedly, ‘my boyfriend? the entire reason we started this shit in the first place?’

‘yeah so.. we frame someone else. one last kill.. murder-suicide. someone you really have it in for,’ he shrugs, his calm demeanour was really irking. he should be more scared.

you ponder for a second, you didn’t really hold hate for anyone apart from nancy. well, maybe there was a few people. tommy fucking hagan for one. steve’s desperate best friend who you were sure definitely wanted to fuck your boyfriend.

but why would he murder any of these people?

maybe nancy was some weird homoerotic jealousy thing.. higgins because he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble? leaving jason, who you were sure he’d never even spoken to.

‘i don’t know,’ you shake your head, stuck on where to go from here.

killing jonathan was an option. get rid of him before he could spill anymore of his stupid theory to anybody else. he was the only person that had suspected you.

the police had partially moved on from the school. looking further into the community for answers. grilling innocent people on their whereabouts last week.

someone bangs on the door, screaming about needing the bathroom and interrupts your entire conversation.

you hadn’t thought about how you’d get out of the bathroom with eddie. how strange it looked the two of you being in here alone.

you look up at him and then the window. his eyes follow your gaze and he immediately shakes his head no.

‘no. i’m not jumping out of the fucking window, are you crazy?’

‘what else are you gonna do?’

‘why don’t you go out the window? i was in here first,’ he hushes, the desperate party goer now slamming the door.

‘i’m not going out the window,’ you look around desperately for anyway out of this, ‘get in the bath.’

‘what?’

‘bath,’ drawing back the curtain and gesturing for him to get in.

he scoffs but admits defeat as he climbs into the white tub, it was a hell of a lot better than falling thirty feet to the ground.

you pull the curtain back, hiding him behind the thin plastic. gathering yourself for a moment before opening the door.

the desperate attendee in question is jonathan. looking a pale shade of green and covering his mouth. he doesn’t even acknowledge you before pushing past, hunching over the toilet and emptying his stomach.

god bless eddie who was now guaranteed to be stuck in the bathroom for at least another hour.

it gives you a small giggle as you make your way back to steve. now stood up, wildly gesturing around and still boring the pants off of everyone in the room.

the party had died down in the early hours and you’d managed to get steve to bed. though, it was a struggle carrying him up the stairs. even now he was talking about nancy and jason. you’d wanted to just let him go. let him fall and then maybe he’d shut up about his dead ex.

eddie had escaped back downstairs at some point and had passed out next to robin on the couch, lying over each other in a mess of drunken limbs.

steve falls asleep sprawled over the bed, one arm draped over your waist, rambling about how good you were and that you always do so much for me.

he had no idea.

you hadn’t really been sleeping lately, far too much swirling around your brain to shut it off. horrifying nightmares of the pool of blood surrounding nancy. the gargling sound higgin’s had made as he met his end. the sheer look of terror on jason’s face as eddie had taken his life.

though you must’ve dozed off at some point. being woken by steve’s groaning.

‘hungover?’ you ask, opening one eye to peek at him.

‘you could say that, yeah,’ his voice rough, one arm extending out to pull you closer.

‘you’re lucky i bought you up here.. you’re heavy as shit,’ you chuckle, running your fingers through his messy hair.

this is why you had to do what you did. for moments like these. where it all seemed worth it.

‘mhm thank you,’ he squints at you, a small smile on his face, ‘definitely feel better waking up next to you.’

you return the smile, humming in response.

‘y’know what would make me feel even better?’ he states huskily, moving on top of you, his smile replaced with a little smirk.

‘hmm? what’s that?’ fingers intertwining in his hair, moving your legs for him to slip between.

he responds by kissing your lips. you ignore the smell of alcohol and last nights party, returning the kiss. you two hadn’t had sex since.. well, since before you’d brutally killed his ex girlfriend. not for lack of trying, though.

his hand slides up your thigh, reaching your pajama shorts while his tongue makes its way into your mouth. his fingers toy with the elastic waistband and you move your hips against him, feeling his growing erection.

your shorts are halfway down your legs when the door knocks. eliciting a deep groan from his throat, although he doesn’t pull back in hopes they’d go away.

they don’t. knuckles wrap against the wood once again.

‘what’d you want?’ he hollers, still on top of you, elbows digging into the mattress either side of your shoulders.

the door creaks open and you’re not at all shocked to see eddie stood in the doorframe, ‘we uh- we wanted to make coffee.. couldn’t figure out your machine,’ he utters and you swear you can see the slightest smirk.

steve exhales sharply, ‘seriously?’

‘yeah man.. people are dying down there,’ eddie states, as if it’s the most serious subject in the world.

steve looks back at you, ‘i’ll be two minutes,’ planting one last kiss before rolling off of you with a grumble.

you pull the duvet up, eddie’s gleaming eyes not leaving you once as steve pulls on his discarded jeans from last night.

‘lead the way, coffee man,’ eddie laughs, still looking at you.

steve pushes past him, making his way down the hallway but eddie doesn’t follow. lingering in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

‘dickhead,’ you mouth, attempting to bore holes in his head with your eyes. he most definitely waited for the perfect moment to come and interrupt. it was kinda his thing.

‘whoops,’ he shrugs, turning to follow steve down into the kitchen.

good god you could’ve slammed his head into the damn doorframe until that stupid look was wiped right off of his face.

you give steve five minutes before huffing and getting out of bed, walking down to the full kitchen. you can vaguely hear robin and steve arguing over something stupid.

eddie clocks you first, eyeing your exposed thighs before meeting your gaze. same sly grin on his face.

you roll your eyes, ignoring his very existence and wrap your arms around steve’s waist, laying your cheek on his spine.

he jumps slightly but quickly realises who the hell is touching him and settles into the embrace, still trying to demonstrate how to use a coffee machine to robin. ignoring the feeling of a certain pair of eyes boring into your back.

you tumbled into the back of his van, suddenly extremely grateful that he’d decided to bring this instead of your moms car. though the risk of being seen in this death trap was much higher.

you’d gone to tommy’s house to try and end this shit tonight. luckily, his bedroom was on the ground floor, there’s be no scaling of any buildings tonight.

it hadn’t particularly gone to plan though. you’d perched on either side of his window for what felt like forever when he stumbled in, carol fucking perkins in tow. of course. shit could never go to plan, could it?

you’d had to call it off. having never tackled a double kill before, you were not going to try tonight. no, it wasn’t worth it. not when all you were doing was trying to end this shit.

you yank the mask off, lifting the black polyester gown over your head, your shirt rising up as it’s launched into the corner. of course he’s watching, desperate for any last slither of skin.

does murder make you horny? was it the fucking mask? is that what this was? a mask kink?

his bottom lip between his teeth was driving you nuts. you wouldn’t ever do this. not normally. but you move over to him on your knees, not bothering to fix your shirt.

he opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt whatever unintelligent spiel he was about to come out with, pressing your lips to his, clambering onto his lap.

his hands immediately find their place on your waist, working on fully removing your shirt. he lifts it up and over your head, resuming the passionate kiss as soon as it reached the dirty van floor.

you waste no time and reach between your bodies, grabbing at his belt buckle and undoing the metal clasp. the kiss messy, full of spit and tongues as you huff, struggling to remove his jeans.

there’s no words spoken, just a silent and slightly aggressive need to get inside of you as quickly as possible. your lacy underwear dragged down your thighs, almost in shreds at the ferocity he’d pulled them down.

your arms hung over his shoulders as he positions himself at the entrance of your throbbing cunt, lowering yourself onto him with a low moan. pausing for a moment to adjust to the fullness.

you don’t wait long before beginning to move, bouncing on top of him, only encouraged by the grunts and filthy words coming out of his mouth. picking up the pace, bare knees scraping against the rough ground of the van.

you throw your head back, whimpering as he begins to buck up into you. his hand slides up from your chest, finding place around your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes, your hips clashing against each other as his thrusts get harder, letting him take full control of the situation.

his hand moves down, palming your breast, his teeth almost splitting his bottom lip as he bites down on the skin. deep grunts slipping out of the small gap.

you look back at him, mouth hung open, ‘shit.. i’m gonna..’ the angle hitting perfectly, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your clit at just the right momentum.

‘yeah?’ he barks back, reaching his own climax, thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls clench around him, coming to your own high.

‘fuck,’ you whine, writhing above him, stilling your hips. pausing for a moment to come back to earth. to realise you were in the back of eddie’s old rusted van, his cock still inside of you.

you slide off, perching beside him, scrambling to find your discarded clothes and your long lost sense of dignity.

you pull the strap of your bra back up onto your shoulder, avoiding eddie’s eyes and fumbling for your shirt.

‘that’s not happening again,’ pulling your shirt over your head. it was like an immediate overwhelming feeling of guilt. every time.

‘you said that last time,’ he laughs, sitting back against the inside wall of his van, re-doing his belt.

you glare at him but don’t honour his remark with a response, gathering your things and shoving them into your small bag.

‘that one was all you, remember that,’ he adds, wiping his sweaty face with his t-shirt before pulling it on.

‘maybe if i wasn’t cockblocked, i wouldn’t be so.. frustrated,’ you sneer, crawling over to the double doors.

‘you can just say you want to fuck me.. the world isn’t going to end if you do,’ he shrugs.

‘yours might if you keep speaking like that,’ you warn, going to open the door.

eddie stops you before you can, a hand on your outstretched arm, ‘wait.’

‘what now?’

‘are we really doin’ this with tommy?’ he asks, suddenly completely stoic.

you exhale, ‘i don’t see how else we can end this,’ shrugging, ‘we have to.’

he nods slightly, avoiding your eyes, ‘okay.. as long as you’re sure.’

‘i am,’ you assure, ‘and then we go back to normal.’

since school had been called off for the foreseeable an array of parties had cropped up, including another at steve’s house. you think he just didn’t want to be alone. his parents were on another trip out of town and the house was so big, it’d be stupid not to gather everyone together in his house.

tommy was going to be there. you’d made sure of it with steve, asking under the guise of wanting to know all attendees just in case.

eddie was going to lure him away from the party with promises of a free joint. lucky for you, steve’s house backed onto a large, creepy forest where you’d be waiting, ready to get rid of tommy and dressing him in your murdering costume.

sneaking away from steve would be the hardest part, constantly clutching onto your hand and desperate to not get as drunk as last time in hopes he’d get lucky tonight.

eddie was waiting on your cue, you’d go out first and wait for them both in the forest. everything you needed was hidden out there before the party started.

‘i’m gonna go freshen up and get another drink, i’ll be back,’ you smile at steve, patting his arm and wriggling away from his hold.

‘i’ll come,’ he says, following you in standing up, a quickie in his bathroom would very much suffice.

‘no.. no it’s your party, stay here.. i’ll be five minutes.. ten tops,’ you nod, just praying that he wouldn’t insist.

he doesn’t. thank god. and you slip out of the house through the back door and out of the mossy garden gate, making sure the gaggle of teens in his backyard wouldn’t see you. they were too drunk to even care.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you find the tree you’d stashed everything behind, probably slightly unwise to do this all in the dark.

eddie springs into action the second you’d left, having already been chatting to tommy about the promise of weed, it doesn’t take long to get him to follow.

‘nah, let’s go to the woods.. i don’t want everyone bothering me for freebies y’know?’ eddie coax’s him out of the back garden and further into the forest where you were waiting.

a branch snaps to the left of your hiding spot and you can hear tommy’s irritating voice get louder as they get closer.

as soon as you appear from behind the tree, eddie grabs onto tommy’s arms, holding them in place behind his back.

‘woah woah, what the fuck are you doing?’ tommy scrambles, eyes wide and darting around the darkened forest.

‘oh tommy,’ you coo, walking over to the ginger and shoving the makeshift gag over his mouth, muffling his screams, ‘i wish it didn’t have to be this way.’

you throw the frayed rope to eddie and he wraps it around tommy’s wrists, tying it in what you hope is a tight knot. you’d known that realistically eddie couldn’t overpower tommy for long and as soon as the adrenaline hit, he’d be fighting back stronger.

eddie kicks the back of his knee and he falls down onto the ground, kicking his feet in the dirt, trying with all his might to get free from the ties.

eddie was hyper aware of your decision not to use the mask, the party continuing somewhere in the background, ‘we need to be quick,’ he presses, gritting his teeth as tommy thrashes around beneath him.

‘i am,’ you glare at him.

see, the plan was to frame tommy. make out that he’d dragged you into the forest. attacked you first. you’d just acted in self defence and got him before he could get you. even prepared to sustain a few injuries for good measure.

tommy shakes his head desperately, looking up at you with tearful eyes, the knife reflecting off his glossy eyes. he looked utterly pathetic and you’d wondered how many poor people he’d instilled this level of terror in.

tommy was an asshole, through and through. a real bully. and you’d detested the fact steve was still friends with him. even if it was because they’d been friends for so long as steve tried to tell you.

‘it’s not nice being on the receiving end now, is it?’ you poke him with the sharp knife, bent down to his level.

no no. he incoherently mumbles through the gag. he’d seemed to calm down slightly, maybe convincing himself that you were playing some cruel joke on him and he wasn’t actually about to die.

‘it’s a shame, really,’ you pout at him, ‘steve really likes you.. god knows why, i bet he’ll be really sad that you’re gone.. oh well.’

tommy’s breathing is laboured, sweat pouring from his forehead and you step between his legs, gripping onto the handle of the knife.

maybe that was a mistake as his legs clamp together, trapping yours in between his causing you to topple down onto him. cursing as you hit the ground, the knife falling somewhere in the dust.

‘shit,’ eddie hisses, stumbling to find the knife as tommy writhes around, trying to grip onto something, anything that’ll help him.

you get your bearings again, standing up and placing a foot on tommy’s back as he attempts to army crawl away from you.

‘you fucking idiot,’ you say through gritted teeth, eddie finds the knife amongst the leaves and hands it back to you, cussing at tommy for making him crawl around in the dirt.

you plunge the knife into his back, blood immediately soaking through his t-shirt as his arms flap around. a muted scream escapes the gag and you twist the knife slightly before removing it from the wound.

for good measure, eddie gives him a swift kick to the ribs, stopping any attempt at getting back up. you stab him again, this time in the side as if it was a desperate attempt to get him off of you in the pretend struggle.

he groans, head dropping to the floor, eyes drooping as he fights the imminent death. the blood seeps into the ground, colouring the dried autumn leaves a shade of red.

you watch as his movements get slower, weak attempts at shouting for help in his final breaths. until they stop. and he lays lifeless on the mud in front of you.

you swallow before looking at eddie who had that psychotic look on his face. it should’ve scared you, his eyes glinting with pure evil intentions. but it doesn’t. you know exactly how he felt. the euphoric feeling coursing through your veins.

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. when his eyes meet yours, that familiar feeling throbs in your stomach. were you turned on by this? or was it just a need to excrete the energy that had built up inside?

you’re quickly snapped out of whatever weird trance you’re in when the party’s music stops and calls of your name ring out in the back yard.

shit. steve was definitely wondering where the fuck you’d gone. tommy had taken slightly longer than anticipated to get rid of.

you push the knife into eddie’s hand, ‘cut me,’ offering your arms to him.

‘no, what the fuck?’

‘eddie it has to look like a fight, cut me!’ you insist, almost grabbing the knife and doing it yourself.

he hesitates, ‘shit shit shit,’ he exclaims, lifting the knife to your arm.

‘do it!’

he does, sliding the knife across your arms and slashing the skin, drawing blood instantaneously.

you bite down on your lip, humming at the searing pain but urging him to continue. gesturing to your midriff area, blood dripping from your arms.

he glances at you quickly before pulling the knife across the skin, cutting open your shirt in the process. you nod over to tommy, if he was found tied up and gagged, you’d have another problem on your hands.

eddie saws off the rope, stuffing it into his jacket pocket alongside the gag. it had been planned meticulously you see, eddie was going to hand you off to whoever you saw first in the garden, rush off to ‘call the police’ and rid himself of any evidence in his van. everybody too preoccupied with your wounds to notice him disappear.

the police would come and you’d put your sixth grade drama classes to good use, telling them that tommy had pulled you out into the woods and just went crazy, slashing and stabbing at you. but oh no he’d dropped the knife and in your desperate attempt to survive you’d picked it up and stabbed him instead.

you were sure you could improvise if it really came down to it. it wasn’t like you weren’t actually in pain, the gash on your stomach stinging as the hem of your shirt rubbed against it.

eddie throws his arm around your waist, walking back to the now quiet party, ‘so i just.. found you out here, right?’

‘right,’ you breathe, gripping onto his denim jacket and preparing for the performance of a lifetime, ‘you were getting some fresh air.. heard a scream and found me.’

you near the gate and turn to nod at eddie, pulling your best in pain face as he swings open the gate. horrified party goers turn towards you, mouths wide at your gushing wounds.

you can vaguely see steve pushing through the crowd, sprinting over to take you from eddie’s hold.

‘what- what happened? what did you do?’ steve shouts, taking ahold of your arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘i-i didn’t do anything.. she was just out there like that.. i don’t know,’ eddie stutters, looking at you to back him.

‘it wasn’t.. it wasn’t eddie, steve.. tommy,’ you nod, putting on your best terrified face, clinging onto steve’s shirt as he sits you down on one of the garden chairs.

‘tommy? what are you saying?’ his eyes go wide at the accusation, crouching down to your level, keeping one hand pressed to the gash on your stomach.

it wasn’t really deep enough to cause any serious problems but christ was there a lot of blood.

‘he.. told me to follow him.. that you were out there, so- so i did.. and then.. there was a knife..’ you trail off, looking down at your wounds, hands beginning to shake.

you were really selling it, god, if this shit was a movie you’d for sure be owed a few awards for this performance. it was easy to cry seeing as eddie’s knife work actually was pretty painful. burning as the blood leaked into your clothes and onto steve’s hand.

it was the longest night of your life. spending hours at the hospital patching you up and making sure there were no internal injuries. and then carted off to the police station the second the nurse had okayed you going home.

steve followed along, waiting on the uncomfortable chairs as you re-told your story for the umpteenth time. ensuring that every detail was the same as the last time you told it. occasionally letting a few tears fall but putting on your best brave face so the officers take pity on you.

they do eventually. telling you that you’re so incredibly strong and they’ll be in contact soon about how they’re proceeding with this all. it worked though. they’d bought your story and you could get back to some sort of normality.

just this time without nancy or tommy fucking hagan trying to interject themselves in your relationship. the thought of having steve to yourself, finally, was enough motivation to sell this damn story and get it done with.

you hadn’t really thought about the implications of being the one to finally catch and kill the ‘infamous hawkin’s killer’. turns out just about everyone in the town now worshipped you. you were practically famous.

kids at school would come to you in the hallways, giving their sorry’s and telling you just how heroic you were.

it was sort of nice. well, after pushing aside the burning guilt inside of you.

you couldn’t fester on it too much though. what was the point? even if you did come clean at this point, who would’ve believed you? it was over. no reason to live in the past. it’s not like you could bring anyone back to life, so why not enjoy the glory?

steve was very clearly also enjoying the second-hand fame, making a point to throw his arm around you in the hallway and making sure everyone knew that you two were together.

in the whirlwind of shit you’d kind of neglected everyone else. especially eddie. though, you were kinda glad that part of it was over. you didn’t need to be reminded of the shit you’d done every time you saw dark curly hair. about what you’d done together.

he bounded up to you one day at school, ‘i need to talk to you,’ his voice hushed, hand gingerly grabbing your arm.

‘i’m kinda busy right now eddie,’ you reply, grabbing your books from your locker, trying your hardest not to look at him.

‘it’s important,’ he dips his head, ‘it’s about.. you know..’

‘well then it’s not important,’ you bit back, slamming your locker shut.

‘please.. i-i don’t know what to do,’ he pressed, desperate to get you to listen.

‘find me at lunch or something.. i’ve gotta go,’ you walked off, finding steve who was waiting for you up ahead, disregarding whatever eddie was talking about immediately.

it didn’t matter now.

‘steve?’ you call out. if his parents car wasn’t there, which was rarely, you’d just walk in. he’d get you your own key if he could.

you’d move in if it were up to you. since everything had died down a tad, you’d been closer than ever. exactly why you’d done everything in the first place. it was perfect.

there’s no response, which is odd. his car was outside and the door was unlocked. usually he’d come bounding downstairs at the sound of the door closing. nothing.

you pull a face and swing round into the kitchen, wondering if he’d just not heard you. nope. empty.

‘steve?’ you ask again, met with the exact same silence as before.

‘if you’re playing some prank on me, i will punch you,’ you warn, beginning to climb the stairs.

still nothing.

his bedroom door was closed which was also usual if his parents weren’t home but maybe he’d fallen asleep after basketball and couldn’t hear you.

you twist the handle, slowly opening the door so that you could scare him.

you’re met with the image of steve’s limp body bundled into the corner, head hanging down to his chest. your stomach flips, not knowing if he was even still alive.

‘he’s not dead, don’t worry,’ eddie’s voice calls out, appearing from behind the en-suite door.

your eyes widen at the sight of him. what the fuck had he done?

‘eddie.. what the fuck? what have you done?’ you manage to croak out, slowly moving towards steve’s body.

‘i wouldn’t if i were you,’ he comes further out of the bathroom, knife in hand, pointing the sharp edge at you.

you stop dead, holding a hand out as if to offer peace, ‘what do you want?’ you breathe, chest heaving.

he flicks the knife at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down, ‘i’ll explain.. you should sit though.’

you oblige, sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress, flitting between steve and eddie who was now making his way to you.

‘i-i don’t understand.. what’s going on?’ you blink, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

‘well.. as i’ve been trying to tell you for the past month, the cops found my dna on that knife you used to kill mr. hagan.. had my shit on file from some stupid drug charge last year,’ the corners of his mouth curled into a small grin.

‘wh-what?’

‘oh yeah,’ he nods, now towering above you, ‘haven’t left me alone since.. see, at the school, that shithead janitor saw two people running away from the crime scene and they’ve come to the conclusion that i must be involved. i mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ his eyes are dark, menacing.

you’d never been scared of him before. not even when he’d spilled jason’s guts in front of you. but he genuinely terrifying now. as if he was possessed.

‘eddie.. i didn’t- i’m sorry, we can fix this,’ you nod, a desperate attempt to reassure him, ‘hawkin’s police are fucking stupid.. we, we can come up with some story.. i’ll help you.’

‘yeah, you will,’ he laughs and it sounds demonic, nothing like him, ‘see i’m pretty much fucked.. so i had a thought,’ the knife flings around in his hand, still aimed toward you, ‘wouldn’t it be just so killer, heh.. ya’ see what i did there, if mr. ghostface’s final kill was the queen of hawkins.. the invincible girl, no longer invincible.’

your lower lip begins to quiver, tears welling in your eyes. if you weren’t in this predicament you’d throw up. finally understand the terror you’d inflicted on so many people.

‘you don’t have to do this.. there’s still a way out.. for both of us,’ you swallow, trembling as he is mere inches away from you.

‘oh but i do,’ the cold metal of the knife meets your cheek, stinging as the tears inadvertently roll down your face, ‘it was you who dragged me into this fucking mess and just left me to catch the blame on my own.. you don’t get to live if i’m going down.’

you can’t see him clearly at this point, a blurry vision of dark hair and evil, menacing eyes.

you’re angry. angry at yourself for getting into this situation. angry for ever trusting eddie fucking munson. it’s like a fire rising from your stomach. the same rage you felt as nancy begged for her life.

‘i was gonna make him watch,’ he nods his head towards steve, ‘but i don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,’ a roar erupts from his stomach, a psychotic laugh as the knife runs down your cheek surely drawing blood.

‘please,’ you plead, trying one last time to make him listen, just let you go and it could all be forgotten about.

‘n’aww, it’s kinda pathetic that you, of all people are begging for me to save you,’ he laughs again, moving the blade to your exposed neck.

your face scrunches in anger and the back of your forearm comes up to knock the knife out of his hand. it clatters to the floor and you take the opportunity to stand, barging past eddie and going straight for the door.

‘you bitch,’ he spits, jumping up and just about managing to grab onto your sleeve, jerking your back towards him.

his fingers dig into your arm, spinning you around to face him. a ferocity on his face that you hadn’t seen before. he wasn’t even this angry with jason.

his free hand comes up, landing a solid backhanded shot at your face. knocking the wind out of your stomach. you stumble for a moment, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in your head.

in the chaos, you trip over steve’s extended foot, landing on his carpet with a thud. eddie takes advantage of the higher ground, shoving you over fully. dropping to his knees, placing them either side of your rib cage, his full weight on top of you.

you struggle to regain your breath, balling his t-shirt in your fist, mouth wide as your lungs refuse to fill back up.

‘eddie..’ you manage to gasp out, voice hoarse. a desperate plea.

he scoffs, ‘it’s too late.. i can’t help you now,’ his hands come up to your neck, aggressively pressing down against your trachea, knocking any last air from your throat.

his hands tighten. his breathing heavy as your vision goes black from the lack of oxygen. your nails dig into his wrist in a last ditch attempt to get him off of you.

‘this could’ve all been so easy.. this is your fault,’ he frowns, staring down at you as your legs kick out beneath him, ‘i did this.. for you,’ he’s panting as if he was the one being strangled to fucking death.

the fuzzy feeling in your head started to feel good, like there was no point in fighting this anymore. it was almost calming. warm and welcoming.

your eyes close fully, surrounded by darkness and that uncertain feeling of what was to come next. this was it. this was your karma. it was deserved. you’d taken so much from other people, now it was your turn.

eddie’s body is thrown off of you, a jumble of voices invade the room but you’re too weak to even open your eyes. falling into what you assume was a certain death.

well, you weren’t dead. the bright white lights pretty much solidified that fact when you opened your eyes. you knew damn well that there were no pearly gates waiting for you on the other side.

you blink, unsure of what you were even looking at. the beeping sound confirms that you were in hospital, the sterile smell filling your nose as you come around.

two heads appear above you, though you can’t fully make out who the fuck it is.

‘ma’am?’ one of the heads calls out, his voice ringing in your ears.

your mouth tastes like metal. dry and gross. it makes you want to barf.

‘ma’am..’ he says, more certain this time, ‘we’d like to ask you some questions about your involvement with an edward munson?’

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musings-of-a-rose · 6 months

Text

Falling Slowly - Chapter 1

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes:This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!

And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

It’s crowded in here tonight. Not quite theme park during season full, but close enough. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t seriously need a drink after the day I had at work. And this bar was the closest place to home that was still open.

Or maybe I just pulled into the first place I found.

I somehow manage to score a seat at the crowded bar, sliding quickly onto the stool that’s still warm from its previous occupant. I raise my hand to the bartender and she nods, taking another 2 orders before taking mine.

“Rum and Coke. Less Coke.”

She smiles, tossing me a wink before she walks off to make the drinks. I have to admit I’m mildly impressed by her memory, as she had taken at least 10 drink orders before mine and memorized them all. No wonder she has an overflowing tip jar.

It probably helps that she has giant tits too.

I take a few sips, letting the warmth of the rum spread through me, loosening my muscles before setting the glass down. The music playing is stupid loud, but the people seem to like it, jamming their sweaty bodies together in a tight group in the middle of the dance floor.

I’ll admit, this isn’t typically my scene. But the patients today were really on their game of trying to piss me off and I decided I earned a drink. I just wish I’d known how loud it would be. Thankfully, I'm not on call tomorrow.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

A man sits next to me, shifting his body so he’s facing me. When I don’t respond, he repeats himself, a little louder.

“I’m ok, thanks.” I try to let him down easy, but turning down a man who’s tipsy and looking to get laid is not an easy thing to do.

“Not yet you aren’t. We haven’t even spoken yet.”

Sighing, I turn my head to look at him. He’s all blue eyes and light hair, a slight tan on his face but one from hanging out at the pool and not from manual labor. I’d be surprised if this guy had to work for anything.

“I’m flattered, really, but I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on now, gorgeous. A little conversation won’t hurt.”

“Really, I’m good.” I turn my head back to my drink, removing my hand from the top of it to take a sip.

“You look stressed. I can help with that.”

His hand finds its way to my thigh, squeezing me slightly. But before I can do anything, a different, larger hand removes it for me.

“She said she was done talkin’.”

This new guy is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, arms that could totally lift me, coupled with beautiful black curls, freckles speckled across his olive skin, accentuating his eyes, which I'm sure are normally kind when they aren't staring down an asshole.

The man who was talking to me yanks his hand away and stands up, the bar stool scraping across the floor.

"Fuck off, friend."

"Not until you leave the lady alone."

The man puffs up his chest, sticking his pointer finger out, jabbing at the man with the curls that I'd love to touch.

"Why don't you fuck off so you don't get hurt, hhmm? Me and the lady were getting along just fine."

The man with the curls looks at me and I shake my head, both to say I'm never going anywhere with this man and please don't get yourself hurt.

"Doesn't look like she wants to go with you."

The man glances over at me and I fix my face into what I hope is confidence.

"No way. I'm not going anywhere with you."

The man narrows his eyes. "I bought you a drink. The least you could do is come home with me."

Curls laughs and oh, I would love to hear that sound again. "Imagine being such a dick that you think forcing a drink upon a woman entitles you to sleep with her."

The man draws his fist back and quickly releases, punching Curls straight in the nose, his head flying backwards. He stumbles but doesn't go down, his hand swiping at his nose to see its already bleeding. The man tries to grab for me but Curls stops him, landing several good punches of his own.

"Stop! He's not worth it!" I try to step in but it's pointless. I can't get close enough to stop anything.

A minute or so later it doesn't matter because the cops show up, separating the men and loading them both into the back of cop cars, Curls meeting my eyes and giving me a small smile before he's pushed into the cab.

"Excuse me," I stop one of the cops. "Which jail is he going to?"

"Travis County. The one on 10th."

"Thanks."

The men load up and take off as I turn to walk to my car and head to the police station. When I arrive, the desk officer tells me I'll have to wait a while for them to be processed, but that they will both make bail.

So I wait.

Several hours later, the kind desk officer rouses me awake and let's me know I can post bail. I do and they ask me to wait in the lobby while they bring him to the front. When he comes around the corner, he's talking to the officer that's escorting him.

"Yes sir, but can you tell me who posted my bail?"

The officer nods in my direction while extending his arm out, indicating that the man should proceed without him. Curls turns in the direction the officer pointed him and locks eyes with me as I stand, folding my jacket over my arm. He smiles as we walk towards each other, making my cheeks feel warm under his gaze.

"You bailed me out?"

"I had to. You saved me."

God his smile is like sunshine. "Oh, you didn't owe me anything, darlin'."

"I definitely did. That guy was a creep and who knows what else he could've done?"

"Well at least let me pay you back the bail?"

I wave my hand at him. "No way."

"There must be some way for me to pay you back?"

I gesture at his face. "How about you let me take care of that?"

He touches his nose and looks at his hand, seeing some dried blood. "Oh, no that's ok. I'll just go clean up-"

I step closer to him, hand stretching towards his face. "I can't believe they didn't get you checked out."

"Ah I'll be alright."

"Stop arguing and come with me."

He looks at me, all brown eyes and tiny freckles, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."

Oh I am so fucked.

He follows me to my car and gets in the passenger side. As I turn the key on the ignition, I realize I don't even know his name.

"I'm Tommy by the way."

I tell him my name. "But my friends call me Daisy."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Daisy."

We make it back to my place, as his truck had been impounded and so unavailable until morning. Tommy tries to decline my offer of a place to stay while he waits for his truck, until I ask if I'm so offensive looking that he wouldn't want to come up to my apartment.

"No way, ma'am. Quite the opposite."

He follows me upstairs, kicking off his boots when I kick off my shoes. He looks around nervously and I see him scanning all the windows and doors.

"You serve?" I ask.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Desert Storm. How'd you know?"

"My dad always scans a place when he enters it. I'm assuming you'll want your back to a wall too? Exits visible?"

"I…yeah. That would be preferable."

I gesture to my couch, which is against the wall. "Have a seat. Let me get my first aid kit."

I grab my kit and some ice in a bag and sit next to Tommy, who turns his broad chest towards me when he sits up. His eyes glance behind me at my bookshelf.

"That shelf looks like it's on its last leg."

I chuckle. "Probably is. I've had it forever and it wasn't high quality to begin with. Just some Ikea shit."

He groans, like I’ve just offended his entire ancestor line. "No, not Ikea! I could make you some new ones."

"What, are you a carpenter or something?"

"Similiar. Contractor. But I do know my way around wood."

"So do I."

Tommy shifts his legs at my implication and I smirk, dabbing at the now dried blood on his face, cradling his chin with my other hand.

His eyes are on me, so close I can feel his breath puffing out against my skin and I feel heat starting to pool between my thighs.

"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks.

"What?"

"On your shelf."

"Oh. Yeah. Haven't read it in a while but I was obsessed when I was little. Wait - have you read it?"

He smirks. "Are you surprised?"

"A little."

"My niece needed help with her book report. So I read it to be able to help her."

"You read an entire book to help your niece with a paper?"

"Yeah."

"That's really sweet. Not many people would do that."

"Oh I'm not many people."

"That's for sure.. hey Tommy, are you hungry? I have some pizza left over."

His eyes flick between mine, a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I love pizza."

"Great!" I move to the kitchen and start getting out the pizza, putting some slices on my pizza stone and turning on the oven to preheat it.

"I rented the new X-Men movie from Blockbuster. Have you seen it?" I ask as the oven bings and I slide the pizza in it.

"You managed to snag a copy?"

"I bribed the cashier."

He chuckles. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Ok cool. I'll put that on for us."

The pizza finishes reheating and I divvy it up, offering Tommy a beer. We sit on the couch, plates on the coffee table as I get out the DVD. Tommy whistles.

"You got a DVD player?"

"Yeah. It was my one splurge on myself when I moved here. Well that and a new mattress."

I fast forward through the commercials, cursing the makers for not adding a "skip ad" button.

"Is your boyfriend gonna be alright with us hanging out?"

“Yeah, no. I don’t have one of those.”

Tommy sits up a little straighter. “Oh? Why not?”

I shrug. “I just moved to a whole new city and wanted to settle in. I don’t like long distance because it just never works out. Plus I can’t deal with all the-” I twist my wrist in a circle “- neediness?”

Tommy chuckles. “Neediness?”

“Yeah. My job takes a lot out of me and honestly, I don’t have the mental space for a boyfriend right now. That’s why I like you.”

Tommy points to himself, eyebrows raised in question. “Me?”

“Yeah. I’ve only known you a few hours but you’ve already saved my ass and don’t act all high and mighty. Plus you have great taste in books and movies.”

Tommy and I finish watching the movie and I drive him back to the impound lot now that it’s open. We exchange numbers and promise to hang out again, both of us missing the glances in the other’s direction. Although I’m pretty sure he caught me staring at his ass when he was standing at the checkout counter.

“So you’re just….friends?”

Tommy nods, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s what I said, Joel.”

Joel studies his brother, his eyes narrowing. “She pretty?”

“So pretty she’d make a man plow through a stump.”

The corner’s of Joel mouth tick up for a second before he fixes a stern look on his face. “Be careful, Tommy. It’s hard for men and women to be friends if they’re attracted to each other. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”

“That would mean she’s attracted to me, big brother, and there’s no way. She ain’t lookin’.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“‘Sides, don’t you want a good example set for Sarah? That boys and girls can just be friends?”

Joel shakes his head, pointing at Tommy. “I don’t want her near any boys for any reason for her entire life.”

>>Chapter 2>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #The last of us #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlouff #the last of us fanfic #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna x you #gabriel luna characters #gabriel luna character fanfic #gabriel lunal character ff #gabriel luna character fanfiction

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netherfeildren · 1 year

Text

FEAR OF GOD: Chapter VIII: The Fisher King

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: Teach me how to ask for forgiveness, even when I know I don’t deserve it.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: angst; PTSD; very brief mention of infertility in the first section, description of injury

A/N: Art is Breach by Keith Perelli (2006-2007)

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER VII: The Fisher King

But still. Still.

Bless me anyway.

I want more life. I can’t help myself. I do.

I’ve lived through such terrible times, and

There are people who live through much worse, but… You see them living

anyway. When they’re more spirit than body, more sores, than skin, when they’re

burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in

the corners of the eyes of their children,

they live. Death usually has to take life

away. I don’t know if that’s just the animal.

I don’t know if it’s not braver to die. But I

recognize the habit. The addiction to being

alive. We live past hope. If I can find hope

anywhere, that’s it, that’s the best I can do.

It’s so much not enough, so inadequate but

…Bless me anyway. I want more life.

-Tony Kushner, Angels in America

“Do you think you’ve been happy, so far?” you ask her one night.

“I think so, yes. Have you?” Her answer is immediate. She’d never been one for much indecision – that was always your role.

“Yes. At times. I’ve also been very sad.”

“Me too.” You can hear it now, that sadness, in the quietness of her voice.

“I hope we can be happy in the future. That we’ll be together, always.” The two of you are laying under the stars, hidden in the forest, in your old sleeping bags. She says the trees guard you, keep you safe. If you’d had more experience, you’d have felt very close to death in that moment.

“We will be. Don’t worry about that.”

“I don’t want either of us to die,” and you can hear how young you sound, how naive. Despite all you’ve been through, you’ve not been able to let go of that part of yourself. When you’re older you will think that, perhaps, that was not such a bad thing.

“We won’t. That won’t happen.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can. I have a plan. If we stick to it, we’ll be okay.”

“Alright.” Your trust in her is implicit, after all.

She is very quiet for a while after that, you think she’s fallen asleep, but then suddenly: “You know, I can’t have children.”

“How do you know?”

“Things were off – Dad was able to run some tests.” That sadness is there again, echoing in her voice, and it is a very painful thing to hear from someone you love so much – someone you know would want that for themselves.

“I’m sorry.” For there is nothing else to be said in light of such a tragedy for her. She would make a wonderful mother.

“It makes me really sad.” There’s quiet again, for a long time, but then: “I know it’s a terrible world. Not safe – but still… It makes me very sad.”

“I’ll have one for the both of us. We can share.”

One of the last times you ever hear her laugh – you should have cherished the sound more – branded it in your memory. “I’d like that.”

Beth is dead two days later.

He sits by your sick bed for days. Shrouded in darkness, he lets his fear, his nightmares swallow him whole – the great gaping maw of a monstrous dream come to fruition. He thinks of Sarah’s mother, his ex-wife, for some reason – can’t understand why she comes to his mind in this moment, honestly. He hasn’t thought about her in decades, that woman he’d known so long ago – can hardly remember her face now. It makes him indescribably sad.

He’s trying to prevent his mind from dissociating. To keep himself present, in case you wake, in case you need him. But the sight of you, small and pale and broken. So still. It fractures his mind in a way he cannot understand. The days of you being lost – of his mad flight to find you, out with teams of hunters, combing the forest for any sign of you, the way he’d screamed at Maria and Tommy and Ellie and anyone else who got too close, spoke too loudly. He’d been extremely close to violence, of the unimaginable sort. That terrible last night, his own destruction, flashing over and over and over in his mind, the things he’d said to you. He could not compare the terror to anything else he’d ever experienced before. The pure horror of that being the last memory you’d ever have of him, of coming across your dead, mangled body, of never seeing your bright, unguarded smile again – in decades filled with fear, day in and day out, he now felt he’d been infected with the most unimaginable of diseases. A stabbing, bone melting pain to his mind, his heart, his flesh, again and again, all of his own making.

This is his fault. He did this to you. Pushed you away. Made you feel like you needed to flee, escape him. He wants to be angry with you for being so stupid, for going out there without him. But how could he not understand it – for what choice did he give you? That you’d prefer to face the monsters out there, rather than the one inside, the one in front of you – rather than him. He thinks he too would rather face the horrors out there, a thousand infected, than face himself. Face his own guilt, his own shortcomings.

He still isn’t speaking to Maria – can barely look at her. He’d told her if you were dead it’d fall on her head. That he’d blame her for it forever. It was a viciously unfair, nasty thing to throw at her when he’d been the one to push you away, the one to tell you to leave, when this was really all his fault alone.

He thinks of Tess – how he’d not been able to keep her safe either, all that time ago. A regret so profound, he’s sure he’ll swim in it for the rest of his miserable life.

Ellie had said sending you away that night had perhaps been the worst thing he’d ever done. The sight of you in this bed proves that fact, and he is filled with a rage so black, so all consuming, it cripples him, will send him to his grave if you don’t come out of this.

He hasn’t slept in days. Merely closing his eyes to rest his racing mind a few moments at a time. The baby you’d had with you has been with Maria. Tiny, squealing, rageful thing that she is. She only quiets when Maria brings her into your room, lays her beside your sleeping form. As if she knows already, even now, that the best place in the entire world is at your side. He closes his eyes in the quiet interminable moments of waiting and tries to picture Sarah’s mother in his mind. To remember her face. He cannot. There’s only a flash of dark curls. The sound of her voice, gone to time. All he can conjure with clarity is the image of Sarah’s smiling face that last morning he’d spent with her. His most precious memory. Something he exercises in his mind every morning when he wakes, lest, he too, forget that. He wonders if she’s still alive, what happened to her after the outbreak. He hopes she survived – hopes she lived a life not too full of terrible, painful things. Although, he isn’t entirely sure there exists any other version of this life anymore. He hopes he can find it, if it does, and give it to you, if you’ll let him.

He looks back at your resting form. The welts and scrapes that had marred the side of your face are healing well. The swelling receding into angry bruising. Nancy was worried you’d sustained a head injury, as an explanation for your prolonged unconsciousness, but neither the bones in your face, nor your skull were broken. Perhaps only a mild concussion, she thought. It inclined her to believe this was simply a side effect of the blood loss you’d endured from the wound in your side, the exhaustion and trauma.

Joel thinks he might become a religious man after this. Thinks he might start going to church, prostrating himself at the effigy of the cross to thank whatever higher power there exists for bringing you back to him, keeping you alive, allowing him another chance to see that smile, even if it’s never directed at him again. Because that is something else he is terribly afraid of. That his last words to you that night, will be the only thing you’ll ever be able to remember of him. All you’ll ever be able to see of him, going forward. He is so, so afraid of the consequences of his own terrible actions. Terrified that the moment he cast you away will be the only moment the two of you live in together for the rest of your lives.

And he thinks: Joel Miller, you are a man made up of fears.

The first thing you see when you finally open your eyes again are his hands. They’re scarred. Tiny, faded marks of a life past, marring the lines of a map of all his pain, his history. Your body hurts, one large throbbing bruise. But the fire in your shoulder, the muscles of your back and arm, has abated. You say a silent prayer of thanks that you’d been able to keep from straining it more. Any more damage and you’d have probably lost function of the limb entirely.

His eyes are closed, his temple pressed against his fist on the arm of the chair pulled up to your bedside. The house is entirely silent – dark and peaceful. You stretch your legs under the blankets, no terrible amount of pain, and his eyes spring open immediately at the subtle sound of your shifting. So attuned to you, that the mere rustling of the sheets brings him to wakefulness. You watch the dilation of his pupils, everything else frozen in place. Head still resting against his fist, he stares at you wide eyed and unblinking. You take in his face – his eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in the harsh purple bruising of exhaustion. His too long, messy curls lie limply across his forehead. He looks haggard, wrung dry. The most defeated you’ve ever witnessed him. Neither of you say anything as you study the other. He still hasn’t moved and the look in his eyes – afraid, resigned, like you’re a predator about to come in for the kill strike.

You feel indescribably sad for him, seeing him like this. Brought down low. It’s wrong. Not an image of the Joel you know that should exist in the world. You’re sure you mustn’t look much better. Broken, the both of you, in this shared moment. You slowly start to slide your palm across the bed towards him, and like a flip bringing him back to life, he melts onto the ground from the chair. Coming to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed, he grasps your outstretched hand and presses his forehead into your palm, his grasp so, so gentle. His other hand snakes up, under the blankets to grip your bare knee in his warm palm, his thumb slowly sweeps over the bend.

His shoulders begin to jerk, in tiny little gasps. He’s crying.

“I was so afraid.” It is choked and guttural, a confession of the highest order, an admission of weakness, a supplication for mercy, for forgiveness.

You know that his words are all encompassing. He was afraid that night, when the two of you were attacked, when he told you he loved you, when he sent you away, when he couldn’t find you. He’s been afraid for decades, since the moment he met you, since the moment his daughter died. Your heart cleaves in two at the sight of his defeat. The hot slide of his tears through the spaces between your fingers, pooling in the cup of your palm, the liquid feel of them burns you, incites a violence in your heart to rise up at the sight of his suffering, of his pain. But you say nothing. Too weighed down by your own terror, your own pain.

By the prospect of having to tell him the truth. The secret you’ve been carrying with you, that you’re pregnant. Terrified of his reaction. Of his possible rejection. For it isn’t just you anymore that would feel the loss of him. There’s two, three, of you now. And you’re terrified of having to ask him to bear this with you. Don’t want to have to ask. And part of you knows, is positive, that he’ll be there for you without you ever having to even ask. That there would be no question of it. No other alternative. That if anything else, the man before you is honorable and good – despite his violence, despite his sins, despite his fear, he is good. He would never abandon you to face this alone. But still, you’re afraid. Just as he is, just as he has been. So you say nothing, simply bring your other hand up to cup the back of his bent head.

There are no words that could fit in the quiet space of your room in that moment – so swollen is it with all your shared fears, all the things left unsaid. You let him cry.

Ellie finds him sitting on his front porch, guitar in hand, strumming gently – a mug sits by his side. There is no fight to be had now, this she knows. Perhaps no reconciliation, either – not at this moment. But there is much to be said, still, or even perhaps, merely silence to be shared. This is her olive branch. In the days since your disappearance, and then since you’d been found, recovering, she’s had a lot of time to think. To consider her choices.

“Hey.” The look on his face as he watches her walk up guts her – so full of reluctantly glad surprise.

“What’re you drinking?”

“Coffee.”

Of course. “Where’d you get that?”

“Uh… those people that came through last week. A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it, but … it’s not bad.”

“Oh,” she’s slightly at a loss for what to say, how to continue. Their once easy banter seems so unreachable with so much laying between them. “You need to stop harassing Jesse about my patrols.”

“Okay,” he says succinctly – like he’s not going to take her incendiary bait. He looks away, considering what he’s about to say next. “Dina. Is she your girlfriend?”

And nope, she sure as fuck hadn’t been expecting that one. “No! She – That was just one kiss. It doesn’t mean anything,” she denies, referring to the kiss he’d accidentally witnessed last night when he was on his way home from trying to see you. “She just… I don’t know why she did that.”

He tilts his head contemplatively, gives her a knowing look. “You do like her.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but I do know that she would be lucky to have you.”

And she knows she told herself she didn’t come here to fight, but he’s so damn aggravating and nosy, she can’t help it. “You’re such an asshole!”

“I’m not trying to –”

“Just – just leave it.” She snaps, looking out at the dark road. “Have you been in to see her today?” Veering towards less conflictive ground.

“Nancy didn’t let me in, said they were both restin’.” He drags his hand tiredly over his face, “Haven’t had much of a chance to talk at all.”

“But before… how’s she been?”

“On the mend – tired, I think. Nance said she’s recovering well. But quiet. She– she doesn’t much want to see me, to be honest …” Maria had said you’d been withdrawn. Not really wanting to see anyone besides Nancy and the baby.

“That was – When we couldn’t find her… Scared the fuck out of me.”

He looks down into his mug of coffee, his jaw shifting side to side, “Yeah… yeah. I– it was–” She knows he can’t discuss it, can’t even voice the terror that gripped him at the thought of losing you. Something about the confirmation of knowing how much he loves you, settles something within Ellie. Reinforces the resolve in her heart.

“Not just for her though. I was scared for you too.” The look he gives her then – she sees that flicker of desolation she was so scared he’d be lost to forever if you’d not come back – if you’d died. There isn’t much left in Ellie that’s overly sentimental, but she could cry at the relief of knowing you’re okay, the both of you.

“Kate’s cute as fuck,” she smiles.

“She is… got those big blue eyes.”

“What are you gonna do? With them?”

“Not much I can do, I guess. ‘Cept take care of ‘em. Keep ‘em alive. If she’ll have me…”

“Love them,” she adds, and he hums in agreement, tilting his head a bit. No point in hiding it, he’s gone soft, everyone knows now, might as well embrace it. Put up a sign. “Well,” she continues, “We both know you’re good at doing that, at least,” her eyes are full of laughter, full of memories. “Taking care of misbehaving girls that can’t ever do what they’re told.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, kiddo. You listened sometimes.”

“Yeah…” she chuckles, “You’re right, there was the rare occasion.” Her grin is roguish..

“Guess I’ve got enough practice ‘bout now, don’t I?

She goes suddenly serious, “Do you ever feel ashamed? When you remember what you did?” The question is abrupt, as if she wasn’t expecting herself to ask, but couldn't help it. She could be referring to so many things, so many sins.

He thinks about the day after Sarah died, when he’d been so ready to follow her to whatever end. His mind shies away from the memory – that is shame – a wound healed over, but still tender if pressed on too harshly. But he considers it now, in light of her question, how the overwhelming feelings driving that choice had been acceptance in that instant. A readiness to be done with all that continuing in a world without his daughter promised. Fate had granted him the opportunity to flinch, a chance he’d then passed on as a gift to Ellie. No matter how she saw it, he’d given her a chance to flinch. Something perhaps, one couldn’t recognize had they never consciously held that cold gun in their hand, pressed it to the tender nook of their temple and looked their own mortality in the face. But he’d given it to her, and not even an entire life of reliving all he’d endured as of yet, could ever, ever make him regret that choice. A parent did what they could to give their child the gift of choice. That was, in the end, the only thing one could do. The gift of choice, something he now had and so arrogantly squandered. Birdie was his choice. Fate had given him a gift once again, now he had to consciously decide to flinch or not.

“No. Never.” There is no doubt – no room for doubt. “I told you once, if I ever had the chance to do it again, I’d do it exactly the same.” There was a space where one could exist with their sins and not resent them. Joel knew it well now. There was only one road that had led him to this moment, to this place. He could not regret the decisions that’d brought Ellie to this life of peace and safety. That had brought him to your door. You had never felt like a sin. The sight of you, it made him calm, so free. There had been fear, too much of it, but never regret, never shame alongside your name.

“Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?” he asks her, and he can see the question takes her aback, a second of shock crossing her face. It’s all the answer he needs – for the thought to never have even entered her mind. She shakes her head, sharp and quick, “No.” She pauses, and then says, “Fuck your fear, Joel. If that’s what’s keeping you from her you have to let it go. It’ll be the thing to kill you in the end. Maybe not dead in the ground, but in a worse way.”

“I know…I know, Ellie.”

And so what if he had been afraid? In a world, a life, overrun with the worst possible outcome playing out in real time, what was one more terror? He realized it wasn’t the fear of loss that held him back. It was the fear of himself. Of his own inadequacy, his own monstrousness. Because he’d already lost you. Could feel the current loss of you, your absence, acutely. Like a gaping, putrid wound. The days you’d been missing, that he’d been so fucking terrified that he’d never see you again, that you were dead, as he searched desperately for you – he was already experiencing that which for so long was the reason for his denial. And he could think of nothing now that could be worse than not having you. Of knowing his little bird was existing out in the world and that he couldn’t touch you, hold you, kiss you. Fuck his fear indeed.

What did it matter if the world was vast and cruel if, in the end, they had one another?

“I struggled a long time with surviving. And no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for, something to be brave for,” he repeats his long ago words to her.

“You keep going for family… And she’s family.”

“Yeah… she is.”

“All this, it can’t have been for nothing.”

“It’s not. It won’t be.”

Existing in a grave for all those years, only to be violently pulled awake by a forest fire of a little girl – it changed the nature of a man. His nature had been changed irrevocably. And he needed to give this new version of himself to you now, in its entirety. And what struck him most was that despite all this, despite all he’d changed, lost and grown, since the start of all this, since Sarah died – who he was hadn’t entirely been determined yet. There was still possibility within him. There was still hope for more. And you saw that, you’d always seen that.

In a sudden startling way, he could perceive what he was, what he lacked, what he could be. You shared that perception; your vision of him was another gift. What was it about this sudden acute sense of self perception that was so close to madness, and how was it that suddenly, when you realized you were in love, it was as if you were able to see the world as it really was? Cordyceps had blanketed the earth in a film of death that he now saw in spectrums. There was a spectrum to death as it existed in the world, as what you allowed it to shape itself, and you, as. How did you perceive death – loss? How did you let it affect you when it inevitably touched your life? Was it to overwhelm you – or exist alongside you as simply another phenomena of nature? He could exist on that spectrum set about by nature or he could break free from it. Cordyceps – and all humanities’ basest desires it catered to – could go on existing, could continue to subjugate the world to its will, but he would break free from that subjugation of fear, of death, of failure, he would live his life now as he chose to. He could perceive with such clarity now what was real and what was not. His little bird was real and alive and waiting for him. This was no delusion, no farcical whim; it was a glance down into time – into the realities he’d once known and lived in, a world before calamity and fungus and dead little girls – and it wore the staggeringly beautiful face of you, a glance at the woman he loved.

“She’s angry with me. I– I hurt her.”

“Hmm… True… but she isn’t like us… she’s good. Kind. She’ll forgive you. She understands you.”

“Perhaps,” he says, but he isn’t sure, is terrified of the alternative, will try and make it up to you for the rest of his life if you need him to.

“Maybe time’ll be the thing to heal this wound”

He pauses at that, “It wasn’t time that healed it… remember?” The memory of their past hangs, once again, heavy in the air, but perhaps now, in this moment, a bit lighter than before.

She shakes her head, gives him a small smile, “I remember.”

She’s quiet for a moment, pensive. He’d missed her so much. This easy casual nothingness between the two of them. Just being together, talking. And as he takes her in, her chin tipped to the breeze, eyes closed, he thinks: if he could have done it all again, he would have loved her better. Perhaps made better choices. But he could not have loved her more.

How broken, how small he must have been, just a short time ago, to have found that thought so difficult to confess, even just to himself.

“Go find her, Joel. Tell her what you need to tell her.”

Chapter IX

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#FoG fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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deady-nightshade · 2 years

Text

Slashers with a Pierced & Tatted S/O (GN) 🔪

Warning/Description: Mentions of tattoos, piercings and needles. Some suggestive elements but is SFW.

Includes the following Slashers: Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire.

**SFW but there are allusions to sex**

Thomas Hewitt

This man is going to love you no matter what you look like; you could have green skin, yellow fangs and scales, and this man would still treat you like a porcelain doll.

Now, if you have piercings, I could see him gently touching them and kissing them, regardless as to where they are. I also picture him as someone removing the jewelry from their victims, cleaning them, and gifting them to you (who said romance was dead!).

With tattoos, he’s not too familiar with them, seeing how no one in the family has them, and they aren’t that common in his small town.

Will be curious and trace them, completely enraptured with the way the ink is placed underneath the skin.

If you want new ones, he will draw some on your body, trying his best to make everything cohesive, and he won’t stop until it’s perfect.

Please return the favor by copying some of your tattoos onto him, and whisper sweet words to him while you do it. Tommy will melt and not be able to function correctly for at least two days.

Expect teasing from the Sheriff, but don’t worry, Luda May will smack him upside the head.

Brahms Heelshire

If you got hired, chances are you hid your tattoos and piercings from his parents. When he first sees them, he nearly has a heart attack and has to do a double take.

His parents are incredibly formal, and since he’s our resident wall hermit, he has never seen body modification like this. He has heard about them from his parents (along with the general stereotypes that come with them), so he’s immediately planning on ways to get rid of you.

Now, if you follow the rules and treat the doll and house with respect, then he will become curious and put a pause on those dubious plans.

When you’re sleeping, he will climb out of the walls and curiously, albeit, cautiously touch your tattoos (poor boy thinks that if he touches them, then he will get them, like, a virus of some sorts).

I can also see him trying to rub them off when you’re sleeping and getting huffy when they don’t come off.

Finds your piercings strange, but beautiful.

Will go feral if you have nipple piercings, regardless of your gender.

Congrats, you complex and infuriating human, you have officially caught this wall hermit’s attention, making him determined on keeping you to himself.

Also, after he reveals himself to you, be prepared for an onslaught of questions.

Did they hurt? What do they mean? Why did you get them? How do you get them? And so on and so forth.

Asa Emory

His reaction is going to depend entirely on how you meet him; did you meet him as Asa or the Collector?

If you meet him as Asa, this is how I imagine him acting...

1.) He loves your piercings and decides to become your new piercer, no ands ifs or buts.

He finds piercing you to be strangely arousing...something about the needle, your complete trust in him, and the momentary look of pain on your face. It’s *chef’s kiss*.

2.) Might be taken back at first with your tattoos, and he will judge you depending on what they are about. But he finds your willingness to be stabbed by numerous needles at the same time for an x-amounted time to be impressive. If you have any bug themed tattoos, be prepared to have your work critiqued and a mini lesson on said bug.

“Did you know that Luna Moths have no mouths, giving them a lifespan of around seven days. During that time, all they do is mate....”

“The wings of your dragonfly are incorrect; the hind wings are broader, not the same size as the forward wings. And another thing...” You get the picture.

Now, if you've meet him as The Collector...

If you are part of his collection, I can picture him trying to remove your tattoos as an experiment/challenge of sorts. I can also see him piercing your body in hopes to see what the human body can withstand.

So, if you don't want that, than you better capture this man's attention and fast.

Jesse Cromeans

I HC Jesse to have multiple tattoos; we already know that he has the skull and knives tattoo on his chest, so it makes me think that his arms are covered in ink, and possibly his back.

Seriously, can we just imagine that? I picture his arms to be full sleeves, one with angels and the other with demons. Now, his back is covered with a large mural of skeletons, perhaps the biggest one being the Grim Reaper (BRB, drooling).

Loves your tattoos and is fond of tracing them.

If you got the same tattoo as him, the Chromeskull brand one, he would die and go to heaven. You have also inflated his ego by ten-fold.

Congrats, you have left Jesse speechless, but don’t worry, he is quick to recover and carry you to bed. There, he will show you just how much he appreciates your newest ink.

Finds piercings sexy and will spoil you by buying pure gold and platinum jewelry studded with the most expensive gems he can find (diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, etc...)

I also HC that if you get a matching tattoo with him, he would come home from work with a piercing that matches yours, jewelry and everything,

Will encourage you to get more piercings and tattoos:

‘Hey, Y/N, have you thought about getting a tongue piercing? It would look amazing on you.’ 😉

‘That tattoo artist you follow on Insta is visiting a shop a few states over. I ended up booking them the entire day for you.’

#jesse cromeans x reader #jesse cromeans #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #asa emory x reader #asa emory #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons

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call-sign-shark · 4 months

Note

no pressure! I was wondering if you are going to continue the Hey Bunny story. I love your writing and always look forward to your updates. Hope you are well :)

Hey Nonny! I hope you’re doing fine! Thank you so much for your interest in Hey Bunny. This is by far one of my favorite works, and I enjoy writing Yandere!Arthur so yes, I’m going to continue it. Still figuring out if I should make a short series out of this or more like a collection of works but in any case, Hey Bunny is going to have more parts. I’m currently working on it so below you’ll find a snippet of part 3. Nevertheless I’m also trying to focus on my hidden series Tangled Desires so one must need to be patient! Hope you’ll enjoy it, little bunny. 🐇 thank you again for your adorable ask and your support.

TW: dubcon or even noncon, kidnapping, sexual assault, age gap, no proofreading. MDNI!!

A pathetic whimper fell from your lips as Arthur held you down, painfully pinned to his bed right under him “Please Bunny, just stay still.” He started, the gravel in his voice rendered ever raspier by his ragged breath and lustful groans that resounded in your ear. The mix of whisky scents and his cologne had started to make your head spin.

“Arthur stop! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I won’t do it again!” You begged between two sobs, your tears caught in your long soaked lashes like shiny pearls of despair. Since the very beginning of your captivity you had always managed to protect your dignity but you knew it was a matter of time before he decided to bed you. Panic kicked in as he pressed inside of you without the slightest hint of softness, leading you to wiggle under his weight in a vain attempt to pull your hips back. It didn’t work. Displeased by the fact you were fighting back, the gangster’s strong hand grabbed your throat, his thumb then pushing slightly on your artery to feel your erratic pulse against his skin.

If so afraid why were you so wet for him? He thought.

“I don’t want to have to hurt ye, me lil’ Bunny,” Maddening pleasure crashed in his lower belly like a rogue wave as he felt your virgin core stretch around his thick erection. Restrained in your movements, all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck, your cheeks burning with shame and your tears rolling on his freckled skin, “I fookin’ need this so please, let me have you ay.” His words were loving, so genuine with love and affection, and spoken with the low rumble of his baritone voice… And yet his thrusts were rough, devoid of care not to say sadistic — Either he wasn’t aware he was hurting your or he didn’t care. “I know it hurts, I know… But you’re going to be a good bunny for me ay. And good bunnies hop on their man’s cock.”

“N-No please, I’m not ready…” You sobbed, nuzzling your face in his neck even more and kissing his flesh to try moving him. Caught in a whirlwind of torments, your shattering mind had reached its breaking point: there will be no Prince Charming nor Hunter for your first time, but a starving wolf ready to eat you whole.

“Keep ‘em legs spread.” Arthur was close, so close to fill you entirely but, all of sudden, someone knocked at the door of his house and snatched him from his trance.

“Arthur! For fuck’ sake! Open that bloody door, Tommy wanna talk to ya.” John roared from outside.

#arthur shelby #peaky blinders #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Yandere!Arthur Shelby #Peaky blinders smut #Hey Bunny #Shark talks

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

Make your heart my home

Tommy Shelby x reader

⚠️ Y/N’s background is a bit hard so be aware

🥰 I’m in a romantic spree so your coffee/tea won’t need any extra sugar after this 😉 massive thanks to @lyarr24 for the help to build Y/N’s background your input always allows me to write such a diversity 🌷

Wrote this story for @raincoffeeandfandoms 2.2k followers celebration 🎉 (rain theme) congratulations my dear Flor!!! I’m sure you’ll get many more followers in no time, thank you for your incredible ideas and stories, for filling my days with moments to take my mind off everything 💐🌷🌻🪷

Thank you, @acewritesfics for creating this moodboard for your celebration!!! You inspired me to finish the story 🥰

Stopping to catch your breath, you didn’t know how long you’ve been walking.

Feet sore and swollen from walking miles through dirt, the woods, small rocks, the shoes you found in a trashcan were now almost wore out, you could feel the holes and something poking your skin and that’s when you realized that heaven was pouring down.

It could’ve just started, it could’ve been hours, you didn’t know anymore, your mind went blank the moment you overheard a conversation that changed everything and crushed down your whole world.

You were lucky that day, you also found some clothes someone threw away that looked too big for your malnourished frame, but a few fixes after and you had a whole new outfit.

People rushed under a newspaper or whatever they had to cover their heads, but you wanted to feel the drops falling against your skin.

Taking in your surroundings, you didn’t recognize anything around and it was dark now.

As the rain started bucketing down, you came to the realization that you didn’t have anything or anywhere to go, you’d have to pass the night on the street. And this was happening because of your abrupt escape. You needed to keep going.

Tears mixing with the rain, loneliness was all you got now.

But running away was the only option you had, and this was much better than you used to have, what you’d get if you stayed there, back in Durham.

Defeated, your legs couldn’t support you anymore and you fell on your knees to the ground. A loud sob escaped your lips.

Feeling the cold surface against your face, something warm covered your damp back.

“Miss, are you alright?” You heard a deep voice ask next to you. “Can you hear me?”

You tried to move the hair away from your face, failing in the process.

“Arthur!”

Something strong lifted you up. Soon you entered a warm place, it smelled like tobacco.

“Tom, who’s this?” Someone asked, you shivered and looked down.

“Where the fuck have you been, ey? I called you to help me.” The hands of the man who just talked rearranged the fabric around your back. “Are you alright?”

You flinched and saw him crouching down right in front of you.

“Who are you? Why were you crying?” He asked in a softer tone and when you finally dared to meet his eyes, you found the most fascinating pair staring at you. “Here, drink this.”

“So… are we going or what?” The other man asked, looking from you to the door. He had a mustache.

The man crouching in front of you looked up and raising his eyebrows, he replied; “Fuck off Arthur.”

“T-thank you.” You whispered, holding the glass tightly in both hands, scared of breaking it. Your eyes looking around for the first time, red and gold decorated the room.

“What are you all looking at? Ey?” He raised his voice and you made yourself smaller. “Do you live around?”

You shook your head slightly.

“I’m trying to help you here… are you staying with someone? A mother? Sister? A husband?”

That raised all the alarms in you, you threw the coat and stood up abruptly.

“No! No!” You shouted, panic in your eyes.

He tried to calm you lowering his voice. “‘S fine, no one is going to hurt ya… come with me so you can change your clothes before you catch a cold. Yeah?” He smiled tentatively and wrapped the heavy fabric around your back again.

“Please don’t tell my husband.” You asked on the edge of crying once more.

He guided you out from the bright room and assured you that he wouldn’t do that. On the short walk back, he asked for your name and introduced himself as Tommy.

“I hope you didn’t let Finn get drunk again, I’m not taking care of that-” A woman stated firmly but stopped mid sentence as her eyes found you by the door.

“Pol, I need your help, this is Y/N.” He then removed the cap from his head and took the coat from you. “Y/N, this is my aunt… Polly.”

The woman looked from you to Tommy, then shook her head.

“You’re soaked love, would you like some soup?”

Tommy left your side, your eyes following his moves, when you saw him walking to the door, you moved abruptly to go after him, but in the rush, something from the table fell to the floor breaking into million pieces.

“Sorry!” You expressed feeling terrible, trying to pick up the pieces of the figurine. “Sorry… I’m really sorry.” Your head hanging low, you were terrified of getting a slap, just like your husband always did, you kept mumbling sincere apologies until a pair of strong hands held your wrists.

“Stop, love you’re going to hurt yourself.” He helped you to stand up and pulled a chair close to the fire, then gently he wrapped a blanket around your body. Tommy guided you away from the broken pieces. You felt guilty and useless as Polly and Tommy cleaned up your mess.

“Thank you, for helping me… you’re so kind.”

Polly looked at you and then at Tommy. “So… you’re here by yourself?”

You found yourself nodding getting lost in the thoughts of how far you’ve come. With your eyes fixed in the flames keeping you warm, you couldn’t help but remember.

(Flashback):

Arriving home you felt grateful, finally after your shift in the coal mine you headed to the river to wash the clothes, now you just needed to hang it in the rope so it would dry. You placed the basket on the floor, it wasn’t payday yet and you didn’t have much money left, perhaps you would ask some people if they needed a hand to wash they clothes too. Your feet were sore from the long walk, but you were used by now. As you reached the small house, you heard voices inside, it was your husband and someone else.

“Nah, it’s your fucking turn to pay for the booze.” Said the voice, by the sound of it it looked like they had been drinking a lot.

But you didn’t have money to spend it on alcohol! You barely managed to make it with the food and other necessities…

“I don’t have any on me.” Replied your husband, as you were about to walk in and scold him for drinking again, you heard the other man say something that made your blood run from your body.

“Well… there are other ways to pay me off, where’s that woman of yours?”

You froze right there, mouth dry, your feet wouldn’t move, as your eyes filled with tears.

“She’ll be home in a bit, give me the money and I’ll go get a bucket of beer in the meantime.”

(End of flashback)

“I didn’t know from where, but I got strength enough to walk away in that very moment. I left Durham and I’m never going back.” You whispered still lost in the fire, your fingers wrapped tightly over the blanket.

A clock on the wall announced another hour had passed as two pair of shocked eyes were fixed on you. It was a shock to think that you came walking all the way from the north of the country, all by yourself.

“That bastard offered you in exchange to get a drink?!” Tommy could hardly believe his words as they left his mouth.

You didn’t notice Polly walking away until she came back with a bowl and some clean cloths, but soon you realized she was kneeling before you with tear running down her face. Scandalized, you tried to stop her feeling embarrassed that an elegant woman like her would be cleaning your dirty feet, but one single glance made you keep your mouth shut as she worked in silence.

“You won’t go through any of that here, my little girl you’re safe with us.”

As she finished cleaning your feet you couldn’t stop the tears when in complete silence, the stranger you just meet on a rainy night switched positions with his aunt and crouched down to apply some ointment with a strong smell in your cuts and wounds.

“Why are you so good to me? Without even knowing me.” You asked between sobs.

“Because I can be a lot of bad things, but you don’t deserve something like that.” He blew away the smoke of his cigarette without removing it from his lips.

—

“Looks like finally someone appreciates my cooking.” Polly stated stomping her finished cigarette in the ashtray. She had never seen her nephews eat her food so eagerly.

Tommy crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at you, he offered you a second plate and you nodded even before he could finish the question. It had been a long time since the last time you ate something as delicious as this, and you didn’t know when you’d be able to do it again.

You winced and jumped at the sound of a loud thunder, it was almost as if it feel outside the house, but in the process you stumbled and if it wasn’t for Tommy, you would’ve fallen, he caught you just in time.

“Take it easy, you’ve been through a lot.” He chuckled while helping you stand, you couldn’t help but show that man all the gratitude you felt, in the only way you knew of course, wrapping your arms around him.

Polly snorted looking at the scene, if she told anyone what happened in that kitchen, no one, not a bloody person in Birmingham would believe that a woman gave Thomas Shelby a hug, and that she lived to tell the story without being cut by a razor blade.

That night she helped you wash in front of the fire in a big bathtub, you were used to a 1/3 size of it, she used a beautiful scent in your hair and gave you a soft body lotion afterwards. But the best part was the fluffy bed and pillow she provided, the room was so spacious and you loved the paper wall.

It was hard to sleep after the events of the last couple of days, your life was turned upside down… the thunderstorm subsided until you were barely able to hear it pattering against the window so you decided to walk over there to open it a little.

The door cracked open an inch and you found Tommy’s eyes scanning around.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant to interrupt you, just wanted to gather my stuff.”

With a small wave you invited him in. “I was just enjoying the rain.” You admitted in a low voice, looking over the window again. “This is the first night I don’t end up soaked, this house doesn’t have holes in the roof.” You admitted casually.

Tommy used to think being in Small Heath was a bad thing, but you coming from Durham, you had less opportunities than he had and somehow this house seemed to be too much to you.

He moved around in silence, trying to not interrupt your peace, but he did notice you were wearing a floral nightgown, probably one of Ada’s.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He gave you one more look before closing the door, sitting there next to the window mesmerized by the soft raindrops, there was something emanating from you that made him want to protect you, something that made him feel a tenderness he didn’t know he could feel towards someone.

“Oh! Good morning love, who are you?” A deep voice called after you.

When you turned around, you found the man with the mustache that was around last night.

“Hello, I’m making breakfast… would you like some?”

“Oh I definitely want som-”

But Arthur was cut by something hitting the back of his head.

“How did you sleep Y/N?” Tommy greeted you taking off the jacket of his suit to cover you, noticing the look his brother was giving you. “This is Arthur, me brother by the way.”

“A train could’ve passed next to me, and I wouldn’t even notice.” You smiled offering him a plate with the breakfast you prepared and he realized of your delicate features for the first time, now with your face clean from the coal that was covering you the previous day.

“Don’t even try love, he never eats.” Arthur adviced with a wink stealing the plate.

But Tommy had other ideas so he took the plate back and gave your arm a small squeeze after taking his place at the table.

“For the Black Madonna… are you feeling well?” Polly asked walking in, she had to look twice at her nephew. Ever since Grace left, he was turned into some kind of grumpy hermit. It had been a long time since she saw him smiling.

“This is the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time.” Tommy admitted taking another bite, his brother mirrored his actions.

You looked with expectations at Polly, you wanted to show them your gratitude.

“I already had breakfast, but I’ve to taste it.” She took it, not understanding why her nephews were so bloody quiet, not fighting while eating for the first time.

You rushed then to pour her some tea and then placed the milk and sugar next to her cup. Tommy was about to stand up to get the second round of food, but soon you instructed him you’d serve it for him.

“This is delicious.” Polly noted.

“Why aren’t any of you at the betting shop yet?” A man appeared in the kitchen with a toothpick and a peak cap.

“And this is John, my other nephew, John, this is Y/N.”

John gave you a side look, everyone was talking about the mysterious woman his brother picked up from the ground the previous night.

Arthur left in silence after thanking Y/N for the food.

“John I need you to take the rest of your things from your room.” Tommy instructed not even looking at his brother.

“Why?”

“Because Y/N will be staying with us and she needs a place to sleep, your room is free now, just take the rest of your shit.” He explained calmly taking a cigarette from his case, Y/N took the matches to light it.

John watched the interaction raising his eyebrows but decided to say nothing about it.

Without them asking, you started taking the dishes and cleaning the table.

“I was thinking Y/N could come with me to the city.”

You looked at Tommy, waiting for his instructions.

That morning he showed you another glimpse of his generosity by giving his aunt an obscene amount of money and asking her to buy anything you might need. He also instructed that once the wounds in your feet were healed you would be working for them. The previous night, while you were sleeping on his bed they talked about it, you’ve been through enough shit to kick you out and with the recent growth of the business they could use one more pair of hands around, he assured you that you wouldn’t have to go back to your life in Durham, you would be able to start anew.

You were barely able to hold your emotions and you wrapped your arms around his torso like the previous day, feeling extremely grateful for crossing paths with the Shelby family.

Polly stared at the scene before her eyes, it was a total surprise and shock to see her nephew allowing someone who wasn’t even close to the family give him a hug, twice. But she couldn’t blame you though, you didn’t have the slightest idea that you were hugging the most dangerous man in Birmingham.

—-

Over the curse of the following weeks, you started to work for them, helping around in any way you could, burning old files, checking the inventory for the diaries, you learned how to use the phone to take notes, anything they needed.

More than once you bursted into his office after a small knock to bring him tea or the post mail that arrived for him, with a smile he would confess that he didn’t hear it and his brothers would make funny sounds or teased him after you closed the door.

Day by day, you earned his trust, learned fast, he was surprised by your positivity and constantly made him smile, or he would chuckle at something silly you said. But you also learned more about his character, you were able to read his gaze and his mannerisms and the tone of his voice when he didn’t like something, but to you he was nothing but tender and kind. For you, it seemed as if he was in a pedestal, for everything he did for you, everything he gave you.

Tommy explained you patiently the paperwork he needed you to organize and the way he wanted it to be done, soon you didn’t need any more instructions. Thanks to him you learned that despite everything, despite coming from a hard environment, there were still good people around. And it was almost as if all of the terrible things you went through were replaced with nothing but a bunch of blessings.

That’s why it wasn’t a surprise to learn that Tommy bought his aunt a house in a beautiful area as he described you the place, letting you know that you were invited to her opening party.

The soft knock on the door forced you to move your eyes from the windows, you had been lost in thoughts for a while looking at the drops of water sliding down the window.

Tommy looked first at the small candle and book over the table, you had been devouring every single book you found around, then, slowly his gaze stopped at your figure, hugged by a dress he didn’t remember seeing before but it surely suit you well, earlier he heard Ada arrived to glam you up, the image of the woman covered in coal seemed so far away now. You were even wearing lipstick he noticed.

“Woah… Y/N.” He was lost for words, which he tried to hide by clearing his throat.

You blushed, feeling like a completely different person and tried to walk towards te bed to grab the purse Ada insisted you should wear too, but walking in heels was harder than you thought and you stumbled a little, Tommy’s hands were on your waist in seconds, followed by a soft chuckle. His eyes sparkled.

“What is it?” You asked breaking away from his embrace, walking towards the window, trying to forget about the way his eyes were looking at you.

“You’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Could you take that as a compliment? Or was it just a safe way to brush you away?

But his arms wrapping around you from behind, revealed otherwise.

Surprised, you turned around to face Tommy, somewhere down the road your admiration and gratitude grew into something deeper, but he was way over your league, unreachable. Or so you thought.

His hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs stroking gently. “I think you’re beautiful.”

His lips met yours softly, Tommy kissed you expressing his feelings through his actions.

Pulling apart just a little, you whispered: “I want to make your heart my home.”

****

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @ange-thoughts @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @dandelionprints

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy Shelby imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fan fiction

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dovedewdrop · 7 months

Text

Locksmith

If in ten years time I'm still on your mind Would you call and Say you want this? / 1.4k

✨Part 1 ✨✨Part 2 ✨✨Part 3✨

A/N: This is the last part!!! I hope you've enjoyed this little series and thank you to everyone who has read and supported🥰 Writing this scratched a little itch for me and it was nice to just share it! Also locksmith is one of my favourite songs it makes my heart go🥹🫶🏻🥰🩷

Warnings: Post-Outbreak. Soft kind of angst. Hella fluff/soppiness. Self-aware Joel (which we 🫶🏻to see). Not proof read.

---

Days at the Bison kept you busy, distracting your mind from the branded image of Joel’s red eyes but there was no escaping him when he approached the bar two days later, no Tommy to swoop in and save you this time.

“Hey,” his voice was solemn, his eyes were pleading before he’d even truly voiced his request.

“Hi, what can I-“ You plastered on the same smile you did for all the customers, ready to serve him whatever poison he picked before he cut you off and your face fell at his words.

“No, no sorry, that’s not what I came in for.” His eyes faltered from your soft gaze to glance at his knuckles, gripping the edge of the bar, the skin coating his bones turning white.

“Oh, ok.” You felt slightly feeble under his gaze, unsure of what he could possibly want from you.

“Can I uh,” he coughed, like the words were clogging up his throat, his eyes still looking anywhere but at you. “Can I see you later?” You wanted to say yes immediately which made it hard for the devil on your left shoulder to fight the angel on your right, but ultimately he won the battle, raising his trident above his head. In the moment you decided that Joel couldn’t just swan in and call the shots whenever he felt like it.

“What for?” You crossed your arms across your chest and looked past him at the door.

“Jus’ wanna talk.” You scoffed at that; it pained you to do so. “Please.”

“Why? Why should I say yes?” He finally raised his head to look you in the eye and you noticed the water welling in them.

“You don’t have to, I know I don’t deserve shit from you,” he sniffled, letting out an puff of air, “look if you don’t like what I gotta say, you never have to speak to me again.”

You chewed at the inside of your lip, really taking in what he’d said. I don’t deserve shit from you. If you don’t like what I gotta say, you never have to speak to me again.

You were already deep in these feelings, every day feeling like you were stuck in a sinkhole, clawing at the ground to get out, what’s one conversation on top of all the others?

“Finish at 16:30” You grumble.

When 16:36 rolled around Joel was already stood outside on your porch, waiting.

He watched as your hands shook slightly around the keys, attempting to fit them into the keyhole and after a few beats his hand hesitantly clasped around yours. Your eyes felt as though they were going to pop out of their skull, whipping round to face him.

Joel had gained some of his confidence back after this morning, yours however, had depleted, your brave façade cracking quickly in front of him. You let him guide the key in before he stepped back to let you over the threshold first.

“Coffee?” You still remembered how he liked it.

He shook his head, no before gesturing towards one of the chairs in the living room, asking for permission to sit, permission that you grant him, perching yourself on the sofa across from him. The air between you is thick, like a weighted blanket but yet it somehow still doesn’t keep the cold away from your bones.

While Joel is trying to find his words, you take the time to look at him, properly. His beard had greyed and you liked it, his hair decorated with sprinklings of salt and pepper, something which you must have known deep down was inevitable but never thought about once whilst you were together, too busy being young and in love.

His eyes still captivated you and if anything, they were the very first thing you noticed about him and the very first thing you fell in love with, they never changed and they never failed to make you melt.

You noticed how his green flannel hugged his frame, arms nearly bursting the material at the seams and you had to will yourself to look away, to stop yourself from imagining how it would feel to be wrapped up in them just one more time. But above all else what you noticed is that he’s still your Joel.

For the longest time you’d convinced yourself that everything about him was different, that he wasn’t the same person anymore and to a degree, he wasn’t, but deep down he’s still that young dad you met, who was selfless and who loved deeply, he just got a little lost along the way.

You attempt to speak, to breathe life into the air around you but he clears his throat and beats you to the finish line, “I know nothing I can say will rectify the way I treated you..” You don’t know how to respond; you want to agree with him yet you can feel the ‘but’ coming. “But I want you to know I am sorry and I know that those words won’t fix anything.” His hands sweep across his face as he leans forward in the chair, fingers combing at his beard.

“I was angry, so incredibly angry and I directed everything at people who didn’t deserve it…” As he looks at you his eyes begin to well and you feel your chest tighten, you know all of this already, you understood and if he just let you in at the time you could’ve helped him. Now you just listen because you need to hear it from him, that he understands.

“I jus’ wanted Sarah back and every time I looked at you, or Tommy, I was reminded of ‘er, I was a dick.”

“Yeah you were,” You couldn’t help the slight chuckle that laced its way through your words but it seemed to lighten the mood, Joel was still looking at the ground but he let out a puff of air and a very small smile, wiping the few tears staining his face.

“I thought I wanted you both to leave but I only broke my own heart more because I didn’t realise you were the only two people keepin’ me somewhat sane.” It was then that you noticed the scar on his temple, before you could even think about what you were doing you’d sunk to your knees in front of him, your hand reaching up to skim cautiously against the skin there.

To your surprise he didn’t flinch or push you away, instead nestling his head further into your hand and drawing a deep breath in through his nose.

“I thought about you every damn day and then I met Ellie and I don’t know, nothing can ever take away from Sarah but she’s given me a second chance, so every day when we’ve been travellin’ I was hopin’ I’d find you again so that I can make it right because you’re still on my mind darlin’” He was rambling now and you let him because you knew if you didn’t he might never let it out again. You kiss the rough skin of his palm and rub your hand against his knee, willing him to open his eyes and see you.

“You really were a dick Joel, a monumental jackass.” He nods in agreement, “But I already told you, there’s no one else. We were gonna have a baby together, get married, I wanted to be with you until the end and I would have been if you weren’t so adamant that I should leave.” He looks ashamed of himself when you speak. “I understood why you did it but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt me.”

“And I will spend every day of the rest of my life making it up to you I swear but I can’t live in this town and watch you walk around and act like you weren’t one of the best parts of my existence on this godforsaken planet.” This time it’s you that’s welling up as you move to sit between his legs, back to the chair, you look up at him. “You got a lot of grovelling to do, Miller.”

“I count on it, sweetheart,” he smiles down at you, both of you silently crying.

“Tommy showed me some spare land today, remember I promised to build us a house of our own one day?” The soft skin of your rosy lips stretches further across your face as you recount the memory.

“You said you’d plant me roses…” He leans down further to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, before whispering in your ear, “already planted the first one today.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #hbo joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #hbo joel miller x you #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #angsty joel miller #dove dewdrop

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decks-writing-blog · 1 month

Text

Whatever the Fuck Benrey Is: Chapter Ten: I Hate That You're Right

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

‘We’re heading back now. See you in a few hours,’ Gordon’s text read when Benrey returned to his phone post indulging in a hot shower. It was dated twenty minutes ago so that ‘few hours’ still stood as a long time. But at least when he did finally get here, Benrey would have someone to play games with again.

‘k’ Benrey sent back. He’d behaved, despite largely being bored for this long, he could last a little longer. With nothing else to do for now though, he settled in for more solo gaming.

Over the next hour or so, he exchanged a couple more texts with Gordon, nothing substantial, just idle chit-chat. Not too long after that conversation petered out, Tommy texted him with, ‘Mr. Freeman fell asleep in backseat. I’m a bit worried after yesterday. This morning he said he slept the whole night through after falling asleep at the table so he shouldn’t be tired anymore, right? Dr. Coomer says its probably fine but IDK. Humans don’t normally sleep this much, do they?’

Gordon had lied; he’d been on the phone with Benrey most of last night again, claiming his nap had been enough sleep so he wanted Benrey to play the rest of Wind Waker ‘with’ him. The call had ended because he needed to head to breakfast before heading out. If he was lying about having slept to Tommy though then perhaps he’d been lying to Benrey too. Staying up all night wasn’t a non-issue. Maybe the napping made up for it but then why was he lying about it to Tommy? Benrey had no way of knowing so… ‘idk’

‘Yeah. I guess you wouldn’t know either. Maybe it’s the car making him sleepy because he fell asleep during our 1st ride too.’ After staying up most of the prior night too. Something was up for sure.

How important could sleep be even for fragile humans though? Gordon was an idiot sometimes, sure, but he wouldn’t willingly do something dangerous. The sleeping all night thing was probably just because humans liked the sun and didn’t want to fall asleep randomly in the middle of the day like Gordon kept doing. The sun was nice after all so Benrey understood. ‘prbly its fine’

From there their conversation drifted to other things before also petering out. Having a good conversation over text message was a bit hard and Benrey quickly grew too antsy to sit still for it. This was the longest he’d been away from Black Mesa ever and the call to wander the town more couldn’t be ignored now that it was really starting to sink in that this might be a permanent life change. Being in a similar boat, Bubby might want to go on a walk with him. They could bond over being lab experiments seeing the world for the first time. And so, leaving his phone on charge, he grabbed his camera and headed off to find Bubby.

***

The first thing Gordon did upon returning to the hotel was take a long shower. During which, he did his best not to worry about where Benrey had got off to. A text from Bubby had revealed that the two of them had gone off on a walk that had taken them further than they’d intended and were on their way back. Nothing to worry about, it made sense in fact, but… what were they doing on that walk?

Such thoughts were just Gordon being anxious though. Less than good sleep the past few nights made his anxiety spike. As far as he knew Benrey had behaved since it had been made clear to him what he had to gain for doing so, there was no reason for him to stop now.

Despite having mostly soothed his worries, he was hit with a rush of relief upon stepping out of the bathroom and finding Benrey sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for him. He’d shifted back to a less human look; his skin a light gray-purple, his hair dark purple, and his eyes an even more piercing yellow than last Gordon had seen them as such.

“Yo, play with me, you said you would.” He gestured with the Game Cube controller in his hand to the TV screen which already had the Melee character select menu open. His voice sounded odd in person after how long they’d talked on the phone for, almost as if it belonged to a different person. His phone friend that had kept him sane the past few nights couldn’t possibly be the same Benrey that had once tormented him.

Shaking off that odd feeling, Gordon walked over to sit in the chair next to him, picking up the other controller laid down on its armrest. “Good to see you again too.” That was entirely true because somehow his ‘phone friend’ and Benrey were indeed the same person. Probably for Benrey it had all been just more games and him being bored; he didn’t care about keeping Gordon sane, he just wanted something to do as well as the PS3 promised for good behavior. But that was fine, Gordon had never had much in the way of friends so he’d take whatever he could get because he’d really needed it the few few nights and still needed it now.

They played Melee and then Mario Kart for longer than was probably wise. In Gordon’s defense, Benrey insisted on playing just a little be longer each time he brought up that they should probably quit soon and Gordon hadn’t had the willpower to deny him when he wanted to keep playing too. Eventually though, partly due to his need to get something to eat, he did break away to go out for food.

By unspoken, unquestioned agreement that only hit Gordon as odd once in the car, Benrey went with him. Sitting down for a late lunch with him should’ve felt odd too but instead it felt completely normal even though he didn’t eat anything despite Gordon’s offer to get him something. Instead he sat across from Gordon, making idle conversation even as he played more on the Game Boy.

Afterwards came finding a storage facility with enough room for all the Black Mesa stuff they currently had packed into all the cars they’d brought over plus whatever else might be salvaged before they found a good temporary lab. Dr. Coomer and Tommy were still off with the rest of the scientists who’d returned to Tuefort. A quick text conversation with them ensured they’d continued to be kept busy for a while longer, allowing Gordon to not have to worry about dropping Benrey off back at the hotel before starting the search.

Tuefort being a small town made it easy to find a decent looking place that sold storage units. Because it wasn’t his money and in case the lab took a while to find and set up, Gordon went ahead and rented the biggest storage shed available. With Benrey’s help – who surprisingly didn’t complain too much upon being asked for assistance – he unloaded everything in the car he’d borrowed. It then took another trip to grab the rest of it from the other vehicles and store that too.

Once that was done, he was basically free for the rest of the day. Not that there was a whole lot of the day left. But it wasn’t so late that the library would be closed for another hour or two probably. So, still trying not to let his exhaustion show too much, he headed that way next. If he was lucky, he could do some good research today and then in the next couple days settle on a suitable place to live, allowing them to move out of the hotel rather quickly. Probably it wasn’t going to be that fast or easy but the sooner he started looking, presumably the sooner they’d be out too.

Speaking of moving into a more permanent place though, the assumption was that Benrey would be moving in with him. At the time of making that assumption it had felt like a somewhat unfortunate necessity, now it didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it would be rather enjoyable; constant company and someone to play games with. But well with his opinion of Benrey going up… “Do you want to live with me?” he asked as he pulled the car to a stop in the library’s mostly barren parking lot. It was rude not to ask him what he wanted, right? They were friends now and thus his thoughts on where he wanted to live mattered.

Benrey looked up from his game. “Uh… I don’t really got anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah but… well, I was talking about it with the others the morning Bubby left to head back here. I floated the idea that we find a place big enough for us all to live together, share the rent and all that. Tommy declined though ‘cause he prefers living alone with just Sunkist and Bubby said he wants to try living alone too. So we all kinda decided to just get our own places but uh… you weren’t there of course and it was already kinda assumed you’d stay roommates with me but… do you want that?”

“The other option is Coomer, right? Uh… nah, he’s not as much of a gamer as you.”

“The other, other option is you get your own place too.” Gordon still didn’t like the idea of Benrey going off into the world on his own without anyone nearby to even attempt to keep a leash on him but… it felt wrong to not bring it up as an option. He’d lived in the lab his whole life, not having his own space except for the gamer pad but presumably that was just a single room. He deserved a chance at more. “You can’t right now ‘cause you don’t have a job but you could start looking for one. And then once you find one and are able to, you could move out on your own.” That would hopefully delay it long enough for Benrey to be more set in being good and thus it would be less of an issue.

Benrey was silent for a few seconds as he stared out the front window. “So I could uh… have my own like, house? All mine, no one else’s?”

“Yes. Obviously getting you a job is easier said than done since you don’t have like a social security number or whatever. But we could figure something, I’m sure.” People forged those kinds of things all the time, didn’t they? “Just something to start thinking about and maybe working towards if you want it. For now though, you are stuck with me so c’mon, let’s go do some research and stuff.” He opened his door, allowing him to slide out.

After pocketing the Game Boy, Benrey followed suit, falling in step with him as they started for the library entrance. “How’s the library gonna help us find a place to live?”

“They got computers we can borrow to do research on.”

“We could’ve just used the hotel manager’s again. They leave pretty early, I think.”

“Nope. I can’t walk through walls so I’m not risking setting off an alarm by breaking in. But uh, you ever been in a library before?”

“In games, yeah. They seemed boring in real life.” Figures he’d both think that and that that would be the case.

“Nah, they’re cool. I’ll get you a library card while we’re here so you can use a computer and maybe check stuff out if you want to.”

“Hmm… okay.”

***

True to Gordon’s word, the library was cooler than it had seemed in theory. The books were indeed boring but there were so many of them, more than Benrey had ever seen in a single room before, they wrapped back around to be interesting to look at and run his fingers over as he walked along the aisles. In addition to them there were also movies and music CD’s available to check out. No video games but according to Gordon that might happen one day. The computers didn’t have any games installed on it but it was free to use with nothing but a library card which was pretty cool.

In all, it was enough to keep Benrey entertained while Gordon did his research. Occasionally he quietly called Benrey over or just texted him to get him to look at and give his thoughts on this or that apartment or house listing. Benrey didn’t have much of an opinion on most of it but Gordon considering his input to be important was novel enough he tried his best to provide some anyway.

Despite the newness of his environment and Gordon’s occasional desire for his opinion, his thoughts kept circling back around to having his own place. Never had he considered the idea before Gordon offered it. Not just a small room in an out of the way part of Black Mesa but a whole living set up, multiple rooms, possibly even a whole building, that was his and only his to do with as he pleased. He could set the temperature as high as he wanted, decorate in whatever way was fun, leave things as much a mess or as clean as he felt like at any given time. On the other hand though… living alone sounded like it might get lonely with the whole ‘alone’ part of that phrase. It was certainly an idea to chew on.

Eventually, around the time the novelty had mostly worn off, it was time to leave because the library was closing. “We can drive around and look at places tomorrow if you like,” Gordon said as they walked out back towards the car.

“Uh, sure.” And perhaps while doing so Benrey would pay attention and try to figure out what kinds of things one was supposed to watch for when looking to buy or rent their own place.

It was starting to get dark by the time they returned to the hotel. Despite that they hung out for a bit with the rest of the Science Team in the dining area for dinner and then a few hours more just to hang out. Upon returning to their room, Benrey had expected Gordon to go to sleep; he’d been yawning a lot, acting rather tired and he’d told the others he was off to bed. As soon as they were alone in their room though… “Wanna play some more Melee?”

Benrey didn’t bother with a verbal response. Instead he went over to pop the game into the console before turning it and the TV on while Gordon pulled the chairs back over. Why they’d even bothered to put the chairs back by the window was beyond Benrey. Who would want to sit idly by the window when there was a TV with a console connected to it?

As they played though, it became more and more obvious that perhaps Gordon should’ve gone to bed after all. Benrey was of course playing one handed, making it fair enough that he could rightfully tease Gordon for losing but also so he’d be challenged still. The latter wasn’t happening anymore. Gordon had been openly frustrated by the losses and the teasing which was fun but that emotional energy started petering out after a couple hours, leaving him boring to play with. Beating him was too easy and he didn’t seem to care, not even when Benrey called him a noob.

So as nice as it was to finally have someone willing to play games with him for a long stretch of time again… “Should probably give up and go to sleep now, huh?”

“Nah, nah, I’m… good for another round or two. Or maybe we could switch to Mario Kart or uh… Mario Party might be fun.”

Benrey, having nabbed Player 1 this time, backed out to the main menu. “You’re tired, it’s making you more stupid than normal.”

Proof of that was Gordon’s failure to look annoyed at being called stupid. “I’m fine. It’s only… uh…” he turned to check on the clock on the nightstand, “it’s not even midnight yet. I can stay up a bit longer.” … He was planning on staying up all night again? Really? Well, time to call him out on his lie then, huh?

Benrey stood and turned off the console and TV. He then walked over to stand in front of Gordon, letting him be the one looking down at him for once. He extended a hand for the controller still in Gordon’s hand. “You had a nightmare one night and then uh… the next night you asked me to help keep you up all night and then you did the same last night too, right?” Basically anyway, he’d called like halfway through it but had ended up staying awake for the rest of it.

Gordon looked at him in silence for a few second before sighing and handing over the controller. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Mm-hmm.” Benrey unplugged the controller from the console as he started loosely wrapping its cord around its middle. “And now you wanna stay up a third night in a row.”

“Uh… not the whole night maybe, just a few more hours.”

“But you said on the first night that missing one night wasn’t a problem but otherwise you need to sleep every night.” Benrey had paid attention because Gordon was his pet and he wanted to be a good pet owner.

“Yeah… I guess I did say that. But um… I’ve been napping and that makes up for it?” His voice rose a the end of it, making it a question, not a statement. Benrey wasn’t always good at picking up on those kinds of nuances but Gordon was often bad at not showing his emotions in some form on his face, in his words, or in his body language, making him easier to read than most people. It’s part of why Benrey liked him.

Benrey put the now neatly wrapped controller in its spot next to the Game Cube and unplugged the other one to start wrapping that one too. Wrapping the cord too tightly would be bad for it so he was careful to make it loose. “You lied to Tommy too. Said that uh… you slept all night last night when you didn’t. If napping made up for it, you wouldn’t’ve lied, right?” There wouldn’t have been a need to.

Gordon seemed to shrink under Benrey’s gaze. “Tommy told you I said that, huh?”

“Yep. Said he was worried ‘cause you fell asleep in the car after supposedly sleeping all afternoon and night.” Done wrapping the second controller now too. Which left him nothing to do with his hands as he turned back to Gordon so he just crossed them over his chest instead. “You’re a dirty lil’ liar, huh? Naughty boi.”

With a grimace, Gordon stood. “Look, I know I should sleep. It’s bad not to, I know that.But… well… I know I’m less likely to have a nightmare now that I’m finally out of that hellhole again. But I can almost guarantee I don’t have one, or at least don’t have a particularly vivid one,if I just stay up until I’m so exhausted I pass out. I promise that’s it’s… well, actually that is really fucking bad now that I’ve said it out loud but I just…” He trialed off with a groan as he rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate that you’re right.”

“Ha ha. I’m always right.”

“No, no you’re not. But you are right about this. So I guess I gotta go to bed. Do you think that we could…” He stopped as he looked away. Benrey waited for him to continue but after more than a minute of him just staring off into space, it became clear he wasn’t going to.

“We could what?”

Gordon flinched before he finally looked back up at Benrey. “Sorry I’m… real fucking tired. I’ll get ready for bed now. Thanks for… thanks.” He shambled over to the closet to pull out his pajamas before heading into the bathroom.

Benrey stared after him for a couple seconds before pulling out his phone. His first instinct was to text Tommy because Tommy knew lots of things about all sorts of stuff. But Tommy wasn’t human and didn’t need to sleep – though he did so every night anyway because he liked to, he was weird like that. Bubby also wouldn’t be a good person to ask when it came to matters related to humans sleeping because even though he was human, he was genetically engineered and thus likely his needs in that area probably weren’t the same as the average human’s. Leaving Coomer as the best person to ask. Presumably he’d once been a normal human before all the cybernetic upgrades, cloning, and whatever else they’d done to him had made him whatever he is now.

‘can humans die if they dont sleep enuf?’ Surely not, that was ridiculous, but Gordon had just implied that it was bad for him to skip sleep and ‘really fucking bad’ if he did so long enough to pass out. The question was how bad? He’d already proven himself not to be trusted when asked about such things though so Benrey had to go elsewhere.

Before Benrey could even finish lowering his phone, it pinged; Coomer’s reply. ‘Yes. Prolonged periods of sleep deprivation can lead to death in most animals, including humans.’

‘really?????’ Coomer had to be messing him, right? How could humans possibly be that weak?

‘Yes, really. Getting a proper night’s rest is essential for one’s health and well being. Most commonly sleep deprivation related deaths are the cause of impaired brain function leading to an accident. Such as a car, or other motorized vehicle, crash. In extreme cases, lack of sleep can lead to organ damage that eventually results in death.’

How was Benrey supposed to keep Gordon alive when something as dumb as not sleeping could kill him? Especially when his dumbass was over here trying to not sleep for multiple nights in a row. What the fuck was wrong with him? … His nightmares must be real bad, huh? Could the nightmares kill him too?

Before he could finish typing out that question to Coomer, Gordon returned. “Do you think you could uh… If you’re planning on hanging out here, if I start acting like I’m having a nightmare, could you wake me up? If you wanna go off and… I don’t know, play on the hotel manager’s computer some more instead, that’s fine too and stuff just…” He trailed off again.

Benrey put his phone away. He’d ask Coomer for more info later. “I’ll wake you.” Even though apparently if he did so too often Gordon could die. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to.

“Thanks. Good night.”

“’Night.”

Gordon shambled over and flopped onto the bed. This time he did remember to take his glasses off beforehand. He forgot to turn off the light though so Benrey did it for him, casting the room into darkness.

With a sigh he turned one of the chairs to face the bed before gathering up the Game Boy bag and sitting down in it. With a little bit of fucking around with the way his eyes worked he should be able to make himself see well enough in the dark to make the Game Boy’s lack of a properly lit screen a non-issue. So between that and texting Coomer for more information about humans’ required sleeping habits, he should have plenty to do to keep himself occupied while he watched over Gordon as he slept.

Next Chapter

#hlvrai #frenrey #benrey #hlvrai gordon

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borntoocry · 1 year

Note

ellie x fem!reader

reader is Tommy and maria's adopted daughter Who's never been outside of jackson and also has a BIG crush on ellie

Tommy decides One day to invite his Brother ,Joel , over for a family dinner where while the olders are talking , reader and ellie are in reader's room where She tells the auburn haired girl her Wish (going to a real Mall)

funny thing ellie found One and decides It would be a perfect date to ask reader out ,they sneak out and ellie brings reader to this Mall where they have a almost-death experience since our smartass ellie forgot to clear out of infected some shops , they make It out alive but reader ends up with a medium/big wound (NOT A ZOMBIE BITE PLEASE) and they're like " well good luck to us explaining that to Maria"

They go home to find very angry and upset Brothers +Maria

(if you like It i also have an idea for a Little part 2 AND ALSO SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH🤍)

THIS WAS SO GOOD??? HELLO??? OFC! the first part will be the dinner with a bit of an argument, and the second part will be the mall. we'll see how long we can drag this on for. thank you for this anon!

this is a fem!oc x Ellie williams fic. she's a poc. sorry if this diverges from what you wanted, I just wanted to write something in first pov instead of YN. (is that okay??)

warnings: conversation about death. drinking. some kissing. that's about it.

PART II

I fucking hate the apocalypse. Then again, who enjoys it? Besides psychos testing out their survival skills.

The apocalypse means losing people: people you’ve known since birth, people you’ve known since your mind could render memories, and people who you never got to know due to your young mind. Like my mom. Young and full of hope, which is something everyone says when they talk about the dead mom they don’t remember. But from what I hear, that’s what she was like.

Her name was Poppy, which means that I might’ve had weird grandparents. And because my name is Clementine, that means I might’ve had a weird mom. From the pictures tacked onto my wall, it seems so: she had blue hair as a teenager, she dyed it every so often from shades of pink to purple and orange. She had piercings all over her ears and a couple on her face, and she had tattoos that littered her soft tan skin.

I have… nothing. I’m bare. All that I have is curly hair and tan skin from my mom, and an odd shade of hazel eyes from my dad. I don’t match myself whatsoever. But I guess that’s why I’m like my mom–I don’t make sense.

But the one person who has made an effort to make me make sense is Ellie–Joel’s ‘daughter,’ who isn’t truly his daughter because they are not related whatsoever. She’s just been around him since she was 14. I make an effort to make that known, because people around town consider me Tommy and Maria’s daughter, which then implies that I’m Joel’s niece. Which I am not. Because if I was, that would make the entire situation of me liking Ellie sort of… incest-y.

But me and Tommy and Maria are not blood related, and me and Ellie and Joel and whatever this family is, are not related either. I’ve just been taken in by Tommy and Maria since I was three years old.They care for me like their own. And for that, I’m grateful.

Tommy enjoys inviting Joel and Ellie to dinner at least once a week; because we’re a group of put together people that have been through more shit than we probably should’ve. And every week, they come over. Sometimes with food, sometimes with alcohol. Maria allows me to drink because she says I’m mentally old enough. That and from what Tommy says, laws don’t really exist anymore, so they can’t really go to jail for letting me drink underage.

This week, Maria has made lasagna and her famous salad, which is just a mixture of pickled vegetables tossed in oil and goat cheese with lettuce. It really is good, but I won’t lie and say I haven’t gotten a bit tired of it. I eat it anyway, because Maria is a marvelous cook and I’d rather stab my eye than ask her to make something different.

I set up the table and lay out five wine glasses. I usually sit next to Ellie while the old adults sit next to each other around the end of the table. I somehow still get nervous sitting next to her even after four years of knowing one another. It starts off with a rumbling in my stomach, and then a batch of butterflies find their way into my chest and absorb all of the liquids spewing into my body. I can’t really stop it, but at least they don’t attack my vocal chords.

“You done?” Tommy asks as he walks into the room with two bottles of wine. This week, Ellie is making her famous garlic rolls, which pair amazingly with Maria’s lasagna. Because she never makes them, I eat one too many and end up tipsy and bloated.

I nod and grab the bottles from his hands. I set them in the center alongside the other bottle of wine and one singular bottle of whiskey. This family drinks too much, but no one seems to care. It’s a Friday, after all.

“How does it look?” I ask, waving a hand over the table.

Tommy smiles, which force his wrinkles to dance about his face. “It looks wonderful like always, sweetheart.” He comes around and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I pat his hand and lean my head against his.

I love Tommy–he’s truly my father even though I’ll never call him dad. I guess he knows that, but he’s fine with it. I call him ‘My Tommy’ to everyone I know, which is somehow more special than the title ‘dad.’

“Awe, look at you guys,” Maria says as she enters the dining room. She places her lasagna and salad in the center of the table and can’t stop her smile from spreading along her entire face at the sight of us. “My Tommy and my Clem. You are adorable.”

I kiss Tommy’s cheek and pull away, smiling back at Maria who has now run around the table to kiss Tommy. I don’t watch as she kisses him, but I hear the peck.

I take one last look at the table, trying to see if there’s anything I need to perfect. But as nothing comes to mind, there’s a knock at the door. I turn to look at Tommy and Maria, but quickly leap towards the door when I find them kissing.

I already know who it is, so I don’t check the peephole. I unlock the door and twist the handle, opening it up to see Joel and Ellie on the other side. Joel holds a bottle of whiskey and Ellie holds a dish of rolls.

I smile and take the whiskey from Joel. “I don’t think we need anymore of this, but thank you.”

They step inside and I shut the door behind them. “There’s no such thing as too much whiskey.”

“Or wine,” Ellie states, which draws me over to her.

I look at her and smile. “Well wine, no. Whiskey, maybe.”

Her hair that’s tossed into a low bun shakes along with her head. Some tendrils of hair fly into her face and I fight against my fluttering stomach not to push them out of my face. To fight it, I look away and take the whiskey to the dining table.

Tommy watches me place the whiskey next to the plenty of other bottles and chuckles. “Thank you brother but that might be too much.”

“That’s what I said,” I tell him. “Do you want me to take it to the kitchen instead?”

Tommy shakes his head. “Leave it. It’s a Friday and I’m sure we’ve all had a rough week.”

I nod even though I don’t do much around Jackson. I’m not really allowed to go out on patrol like Ellie. My mom died that way. Maybe not riding around safely like Ellie, but she died out on patrol. And ever since I was old enough to take on tasks, I was labored with tending to the farm animals.

I have never gone outside of the walls of Jackson. I’ve begged Tommy and Maria, but they always say no. We’ve even gotten into fights about it, which have led me to nights in Ellie’s room, where she tells me stories of what she’s seen out there. And some of those stories have included a mall.

Because of her stories, I have dreamed about sneaking away and finding that said mall. Even though I know it won’t happen, I dream about it–because how harmful can a dream be?

“Alright, has everyone washed their hands?” Maria asks.

Tommy and Joel nod but Ellie and I look over at one another, shaking heads. I head into the kitchen with her behind me and the butterflies come out in full effect, knocking into the walls of my stomach.

I eject soap into my hands and turn on the sink, quickly shoving my hands underneath the slow stream to get some bubbles forming. As I knead the soap into my hands, Ellie clears her throat. I look over at her with a smile and she begins a conversation.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

I nod. “Good. So far, I’m doing good.”

“Has that guy Jacob been bothering you?” she asks, referring to this one guy around our age that can’t seem to stop pestering every girl in Jackson. He used to catcall me everyday during the summer. I wore shorts and thin shirts so I wouldn’t overheat, and he’d come over whistling at me, hoping I’d feed into his delusions.

I never told him I wasn’t into his type, so he kept coming onto me. Until a couple weeks ago when I punched him so hard that he fell back and got a concussion. I guess that gave him the memo.

I wash the suds out of my hands as I shake my head. “He hasn’t talked to me since you know what.”

She laughs and takes my spot by the sink. “That was badass, by the way,” she tells me as the soap suds up in her hands.

My cheeks become hot and I laugh. “Thanks,” I say, “you’ve told me that quite a couple times.”

Her cheeks heat up and swell with blood, but I try not to think of it. Instead, I focus on her hands and the way the soap begins vanishing from her fingers. The new tattoos that tread down her hands come into full effect and I have to turn away.

“I say it ‘cause it’s true,” she tells me as she dries her hands on her jeans.

I shrug. “It’s no biggie.”

“What’s no biggie?” Joel asks as he steps into the kitchen.

“Me punching Jacob,” I tell him.

He laughs and grabs a couple more napkins from the counter. “That was bad ass, by way.”

Ellie and I turn to one another and laugh. Joel, as confused as he is, turns away and re-enters the dining room, where we follow him into and sit down for dinner.

We’re three bottles of wine into dinner and I’ve had about two very full glasses. Even though I’ve been allowed to drink around Tommy and Maria since I turned 17, I haven’t gained a high enough tolerance. So now I drunkenly sit in my seat with one of Ellie’s garlic rolls in my hand.

Tommy and Joel are laughing at something Maria said, and Ellie is staring me down.

“You don’t think you’ve had enough to drink?” she asks as she glances at my wine glass.

I shrug. “You want some?”

She shrugs.

“Have it,” I tell her.

She chugs the rest and places the glass next to her, as if to say, ‘Now you can’t get any more.’ I’m fine with that, so I chow down on the garlic roll and listen to the adults.

This runs for about ten minutes before the conversation is redirected towards the teenagers. “So,” Maria says, “how are you girls?”

I glance at Ellie and I catch her looking back at me. Her red cheeks make a re-appearance and I mistake it for the wine and whiskey. Ellie looks back at Maria and smiles. “We’re good. Well–I’m good. I’ve been doing fine on patrols and all that.” She turns to me again and with her red cheeks and perfectly molded lips, asks, “And you, Clem?”

I shake out of my drunken thoughts and crookedly smile. “It’s been fine on the farm.”

Joel glances between me and Ellie and chuckles. “You hate it at the farm, don’t you?”

I shrug. I pick at the leftover pieces of dead lettuce on my plate and try to find words that don’t come off as bitchy. But I fail. The words tumble out of my mouth before I can slap a hand over my lips. “Nothing new ever happens and I can’t do anything else, so yeah, I kinda do hate it.”

Maria sighs and I look up at her. “You know you can’t go on patrol, Clem.”

“Well I can’t do anything else here either.”

“Clementine, don’t start your arguing,” Tommy warns.

I scoff. “I’m not arguing, I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me go on patrol.”

“Because–” Maria starts.

“Because what? Ellie goes on patrol!”

“That’s different,” Joel mutters.

I avert my gaze towards him and ask, “How? How is it different?”

“Your mom died while out on patrol,” he continues.

“From what I know, combat skills aren’t hereditary. Y’all can teach me! Ellie can teach me.”

Ellie stays silent. I suddenly feel bad for jamming her into our conversation. She sits next to me and places her hand on my hand, forcing my trembling fingers to die down. She leans in and tries to whisper something in my ear, but I shove her away and continue with the conversation between me and the adults.

“Stop trying to fight this, Clementine,” Tommy tells me.

“But you can teach me! How do you know I’ll die if you don’t teach me how to defend myself?”

“Your mother knew how to defend herself,” Maria says, but before she can continue, I cut her off.

“Okay then! So teach me how to defend myself.”

“But she was stupid and got herself killed. And I’d rather keep you locked in Jackson than have you do the same.”

“So I’m stupid?” I ask. The color drains out of my face and leaves me as pale as a ghost. I’ve always been mistaken for Tommy and Maria’s daughter due to my skin color, but now that my color has drained from my body, I feel like everything that used to connect me to this couple is gone. “You think that because my mom died stupidly, I’ll do the same?”

Maria shuts her eyes and pulls herself away from the table. She stands up and gathers her and Tommy’s plates. “We’re not talking about this. Talk to your Tommy and leave me out of it.”

Tommy glances at me and I look away, pulling myself away from the table and fleeing. I trip over the chair and try kicking it away, but Ellie latches her hand onto my arm and pulls me around the tipping chair.

She helps me up the stairs as my vision becomes blurred and once we enter my bedroom, I flop onto my bed. She shuts my door and I instantly sob.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Ellie whispers as she plops down next to me and rubs her hands along my spine. “You’re okay, Clem.”

I shake my head. “Fuck them!” I exclaim. “They’ve kept me locked up in Jackson my entire life and expect me not to want to go out? I’m a fucking human, not a pet!”

“They just want to keep you safe, Clem.”

I drunkenly disobey, pushing her off and scooting up to the back of my bed. She crawls towards me and sits in front of my legs. She places her hands on top of my knees and slowly rubs her thumbs along the grooves.

“Leave me alone,” I whisper.

“Nothing they said was true,” she tells me.

I look up at her with a frown. “How do you know that?”

“You’re the smartest girl I know, Clem.”

I roll my eyes.

Ellie slaps my knee and cowers over me. “I mean it. You’re incredibly intelligent with animals. You practically speak to them!”

“I’m telling you, I’m weird.”

She shakes her head and places her hands on both of my knees. She spreads them apart and crawls between them. I gulp down the nervousness cinching my throat and try to push myself back against my bed. But I’m already against the wall.

I’ve wanted this ever since I met Ellie. Sure, it was inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old to be thinking about this very moment where Ellie kisses me, but I couldn’t just knock those thoughts away. They have been imprinted onto my mind ever since, and now it’s happening.

Or maybe not. We’re drunk. But I so badly want this.

“What’s so bad about being weird?” she asks me in a seductive tone that makes an awful whining noise come out of my throat. She chuckles and lowers her head even more. “What was that?”

I shrug. “I’m nervous,” I say. “And we’re drunk.”

“And what about this is making you nervous?”

“It looks like you want to kiss me…” I whisper.

“And what if I do?”

I raise an eyebrow.

Ellie places her lips on my forehead and smoothes the wrinkles lining my skin. “You are nothing they say you are. You’re intelligent, you’re beautifully weird and you I know you’d be one badass fighter.”

I look up at her, our lips mere centimeters apart, and frown. “Then why don’t they see that?”

Ellie’s fingers move up from the bottom of my neck up to my cheeks. She rubs her thumbs along my lips and whispers, “They do, I promise you they do, Clem. I think maybe they don’t want to risk losing you, even if they can show you how to be a badass warrior.”

I crack a smile, even though it might be the fakest one I’ve ever put on. She must notice, though, because she leans in as close as she can. “If I kiss you, is there a chance this frown will disappear?”

I lick my lips and stare up at her dark eyes that seem to seep into my body. “Maybe,” I whisper, and allow her lips to sink into mine.

Her hands wrap around my cheeks and mine wrap around her hair. She pushes me down into my bed and I slowly lean back, wrapping my legs around her waist. I act needy, because I am. I kiss her like I’ve always dreamed of, with my lips following hers and opening up my mouth when she wants to dart her tongue in.

I’ve kissed one person before Ellie, but it was to get her off my mind. She was spinning in my head, owning every single crevice of my brain. I used to think it was on purpose–the universe was trying to drive me mad before the walls of Jackson did. But now I think… Well, I don’t know what the universe was trying to do. What I do know is that all those times I made out with Kennedy was to prepare me for the making out Ellie and I are doing.

The kissing between Ellie and I is fervent. She’s kissing my lips, sucking my bottom lip, kissing along my neck down to my collarbones. She’s trying to pull a leg over one of mine so she can–what I assume–hump it, but before she does, I pull away.

“Maybe let’s go back down,” I whisper, out of breath.

She pulls her head away from my neck and brushes her hair out of her face. “Not yet,” she says. “I have something to tell you.”

I nod. “Do you like me?” I ask.

She chuckles. “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

I frown. “Oh.”

“I thought that was obvious,” she tells me. “That I like you. I’ve been staring at you ever since I showed up.”

I drop my head in embarrassment and sheathe my eyes with my hands. “I couldn’t tell. I’m sorry.”

Ellie lifts my head with both of her hands and sits on her calves in front of me. She kisses the corner of my lips and pulls away. “It’s okay, Clem. Don’t worry about that right now.”

I nod. “So… then… tell me what you were going to say.”

She nods and drops her hands onto my shoulders, where she rubs my blades. “You remember that mall I told you about ages ago?”

My eyes open wide and I smile. “Yes. The one you found when you went on patrol the first few times.”

She nods. “What if I sneak you out one of these days and take you there? Just us. We can look around and make it memorable for your first time outside of Jackson?”

I nod. I nod like a child who’s just had a tub of sweets. “Yes!” I exclaim, but quickly run a hand over my mouth. “Sorry… But yes! We should.”

Ellie nods and kisses me one more time. “How about next Friday? Our dinner will be at 4, and we can sneak out and make it back here by midnight. They won’t even notice we’re gone–they’ll be drunk by eight o’clock.”

I nod. “Okay. Deal.”

Ellie kisses the side of my head and pulls away, crawling off my bed. She walks over to my record station and thumbs through my vinyl records. I crawl to the end of my bed and watch as she grabs one and pulls it out of its sleeve. She pulls the needle up and sets the record down. Then she places the needle back down on the record and we wait for the music to begin.

Ellie turns and extends a hand. “Wanna dance? To get you out of your bad mood?”

I bite down on my lips to hide my smile and nod. I take her hand and she pulls me up, almost launching me into the air. I hold onto her as she spins me around, and once we’re tired, we plop back onto my bed.

I turn my head to her and smile because she’s already looking back at me. “I’m excited about this trip,” I whisper in case anyone is standing outside.

“Me too. I’ll make sure to make it extra special.”

“You promise?”

She nods. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #elliewilliams x reader #ellie williams x you #fluff #lesbian romance #the last of us #oneshot #romance #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams recs #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfiction

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augustghosts · 1 year

Text

Candles

Tommy Miller x f!reader

I don’t even know what this is tbh. This has been in my drafts forever and I haven’t posted in a month so… have this. I debated posting this as it kinda felt like me just rambling about Tommy lmao, but I think some people might like it! I didn’t know how to end this either lmao, I honestly could have kept going and added smut but i held back hehe. Also, this is a rare non nsfw fic from me lmao. <3

Word count- 2k

Warnings - mention of sexy times because like post sexy times. Like mild angst? But like in a hurt/comfort way? but that's about it! Not as many warnings as my usual fics lol. Not proofread as always because I’m still lazy.

Tommy likes her best like this. He likes her all the time, of course. But this was always something special. Dusk, when the apartment was warm. When the bed was warm - whispers against hot skin. Sleep lingering, bodies pressed together like they belonged there. Tommy felt that for the first time in forever, he had a place to come home too. A place he wanted to come home too. When there were no barriers between them. When all he had to do was pull her a little closer and she knew exactly what he wanted. The way she would open up for him so easily, so trustful. It made his aching heart feel full.

He remembers the first time they did this, the first time he had taken her on this dirty mattress. The first time he’d watched her get up and enter the bathroom, back then - he had held back on telling her how beautiful she looked. But now, it's almost like she could sense the words on the tip of his tongue as she turns to smirk at him as she opens the door. She waits in the doorway, letting his eyes skim over her naked body. She can’t deny that she loved Tommy’s attention. He was always so doting, so loving. Nothing like she’d ever had before. It was a strange thought, she’d found the kindest love she’d always dreamed of in one of the roughest places she’d ever been. Life in the QZ was not as kind as Tommy was, his soft touch was a welcome break from her newfound life.

At first it had been a classic case - I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, no strings attached. But when do those ever work out? Especially with men like Tommy. Men with gorgeous skin and big brown eyes and soft curls to work your fingers through when he was between your legs. Thinking back, she’s not sure why she ever thought she could let him go.

“Do you have something to say?” She teased. Still standing in the doorway with a grin on her face - the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. She thought the same, she always thought he was beautiful. But especially like this, he was lying down with his arm propped up behind his head, thin sheets draped over his waist - the awful orange light from the makeshift QZ street lights streamed in the window, but somehow, he managed to make it look beautiful. The light making him look like a fucking angel.

“No.” He replied, leaning over to reach for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table. His gorgeous smirk still lingering on his lips as he placed it between them. She rolls her eyes and slips into the bathroom, the door shutting behind her. Tommy still can’t seem to wipe his giddy grin off his face. Honestly, he’s past the point of telling himself to grow up and be cool. He lost that around her ages ago. She had seen the cool, sauve Tommy facade that he had put on when they first met, and she had seen him as himself - she had seen him for who he is. And she loved both. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve it, but he sure as hell made sure he was making the most of it before she left him. Leaving him was inevitable, he thought. Just like everyone else.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving?” Her angelic voice grasps the evil one in his head by the hair and yanks it completely out of his mind, she always had a way of doing that.

“Why?” He asks, his cigarette now lit, smoke dancing between his lips as he speaks. She hated to admit that she found it hot. “You tryin’ to get rid of me?”

“No,” She giggles. She joined him on the bed, resting on her knees beside him. His hand instinctively goes to rest on her thigh, stroking her warm skin. Although,much to his disappointment, she had slipped on a shirt now. She took the cigarette from his fingers and placed it into her own mouth before she spoke. “I just don’t wanna face the wrath of your brother. You’ve been gone for a while now.”

“He probably knows where to find me.” Tommy said softly, looking up at her as his thumb continued to move slowly back and forth on her inner thigh. Joel knew about the girl across the hall, and he knew how much time Tommy spent with her. If he was really that interested he could come break down the door and see for himself.

She hums, in agreement or quizzically, he’s not sure. She passes the cigarette back to him and gets up again, leaving him in darkness. But as quickly as she left, she returns again with a candle in hand. She lights it, their dim corner of the room now full of beautiful flickering yellow light. Tommy spends so much time with her because when they are together, she brings some light and hope to him. Just like her damn candles. Hope and light he’s not sure he deserves. It’s addicting, being around someone like her. Someone who makes that darkness in his mind disappear.

He knows he can’t have her forever. Although he hopes too. The thought of losing the light that she brings scares the shit out of him. But for now, he pulls her down beside him, they talk for a bit and he holds her until she falls asleep. He doesn’t sleep much, but he doesn’t mind. He waits until the candle she had lit burns out, and eventually he drifts off too.

Tommy winces as his bruised fist pounds against the door, his knuckles still throbbing a little. Adrenaline is still running through his veins. He should have gone to Joel. But honestly, he has nothing to say to Joel. Joel always has something to say. He knows that he can always show up at her door, even if he has nothing to say. His world felt pretty fucking dark right now, so what else was he supposed to do?

He hears the locks jingle on the other side of the door, it cracks open slightly, the chain lock at the top still in action and stopping it from opening all the way. He sees her peek through, calmness immediately flooding through him. It’s already dark outside so she probably hadn’t expected him tonight. He looks sheepish as he mumbles a small “Hi, baby.” through the small gap.

She undoes the chain, opening the door all the way. She looks confused, about to ask him what was wrong before her eyes flicker down to his bloodied knuckles. The concern immediately falls from her face, a more stern look taking its place.

“Can I come in?” He asks, his voice is small, like a child who's been told off.

“As long as no one’s gonna follow you.” She said, glancing out into the hallway.

“No one is following me.” He confirms.

“Alright.” She steps out of the way to let him walk in, glancing down the hallway one last time before shutting the door and putting all the locks back in place. Tommy knows she worries, she knows the kind of people he and Joel mix with. Living here was tough, she tries to keep to herself and protect her own peace. She also knew that bringing Tommy into her life put that at risk. And he knew it too.

“Are you okay?“ She asks. He walks over to her small table and drops down into the seat, breathing in deeply.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

She nods. He doesn’t really know what else to say - he doesn’t need to. He knows she won't ask what happened, she doesn’t want to know. If he wanted to talk, she would listen. But she prefers not to hear about what he gets up too when he isn’t with her. She doesn’t like knowing how he makes his money, how he gets all his cards. She likes to keep their little love bubble clean from his other life.

He watches her as she fills up a bowl of water and roots through a drawer. She comes back over to the table with the bowl and an old first aid kit.

“Give me your hand.” She says, dragging a chair over to sit in front of him. Their knees touching, he wants to reach for her and hug her tightly. But he waits, he lets her lead. He does as she says, placing his hand into hers. She dips a rag into the cold water and presses it to his knuckles, he watches her face as she cleans up his hand. He can tell she is disappointed and it makes him so fucking sad.

When she’s finished, she stands up and says. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you something.”

He shakes his head, he’s still staring at her silently.

“Are you sure? Because I can-“ She stops abruptly when he surges forward and wraps his arms around her waist - he buries his face into her stomach, trying to hide the tears burning the corner of his eyes. He didn’t know why he was crying, she just brought this out in him. The light she brings into him makes him vulnerable, but he didn’t mind. He adored her, he’d cry in front of her every single day if it meant that he got to see her. She sighs, but not in an angry or disappointed way, in the most loving way he’d ever heard - it makes more tears fall from his eyes.

“Oh, Tommy.” She murmurs into his hair, one of her arms wraps around his shoulder, the other digs into his hair. “What is it?” She asks softly.

He takes a few more seconds, holding her tightly. Then he pulls away, his hand staying in place on her waist. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, “I don’t fucking know. I’m fine, honestly.” He laughs.

She laughs with him, her hands coming up to cradle his face, her thumbs wipe under his eyes.

“You wanna know something?” He asks.

“Sure.” She answers. The soft look of love in her eyes has given him a sudden confidence.

“I, uh, I think I love you.” He breathes out. She takes a few seconds to respond, it makes in fucking nervous.

“You think?” She responds. The smile on her face tells him she's joking, much to his relief.

“No, I do.” He confirms. “I do love you.” He feels like he's confirming it with himself too. His hands are still tightly gripping her waist, an attempt to ground himself.

“You know what?” She smiles. He nods eagerly, urging her to continue. His big brown eyes looked up at her intently. “I think I love you too, Tommy.”

He stands suddenly and kisses her. Kisses her more passionately than he ever has, her hands grip the front of his denim jacket and she laughs against his mouth, breaking the kiss - but he doesn’t mind. Because as usual, the ghosts that floated around inside his head were quiet - her light brightening his mind until all he saw was her. He smiled to himself as he watched her light the candle that sat beside her bed, beckoning him over to the small corner of the room that he liked to call home.

#does this suck? I think this sucks #sorry if this is boring lmao #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller fluff #tommy miller fic #hbo tommy miller #tlou #gabriel luna

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